But she’s not looking at me. Instead she’s waving over a group of white girls I vaguely know in the same way I know everyone in this town, and Millie Michalchuk is among them. The group slides into the booth behind us and Hannah points at each of them, but I can barely keep up. “Amanda, Millie, Ellen, and Willowdean. Where’s Callie?” she asks.

The chubby blond one who I recognize as an employee here swivels around. “She and Mitch are working on some prom court thing.” She waves to me. “You can call me Will.”

I nod. “I’m Waylon.”

“Oh,” says the thin girl with silky dark hair, “we know who you are. And I’m Ellen.”

Millie giggles. “You’re kind of a legend.”

I smile at that. “Millie, right?”

She nods.

“I’m sort of like your biggest fan,” I gush.

“Whoa,” says the girl next to her in a cute tracksuit. “That’s gonna go right to her head.”

“It’s nice to be appreciated,” says Millie matter-of-factly. She nudges the girl beside her. “And this is Amanda.”

“But seriously,” Willowdean says. “We will do anything we can to help y’all win this thing. And honestly, I need all the distractions I can get.”

Hannah grunts. “We stand no chance of winning. We’re here to make a statement.”

Willowdean rolls her eyes. “This is how she was with the pageant.”

Hannah smirks and holds up a finger. “Let’s stop pretending you entered that pageant to win.”

“She’s right,” I say. “We are most definitely not winning.”

“Hey now,” Millie interjects. “That’s not the kind of attitude that will take the crown.”

Hannah rolls her eyes. “Y’all know Bekah will win, and maybe Bryce or that Tucker guy. He seems boring and inoffensive enough to please the masses.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I blurt.

The five of them all perk up at that.

“I wouldn’t know . . . for sure . . . about him being boring,” I add. “But I haven’t exactly had good experiences with him in the past.”

Will leans her head against the windowpane and takes a long sip of her root beer float.

“Is she okay?” I ask the other girls.

“I’m fine,” Will says.

“Anyone who says they’re fine isn’t fine,” I tell her.

Ellen touches a hand to Will’s leg.

Behind the counter a tall cute white guy with shaggy honey-colored hair reaches for the intercom. “Uh.” He clears his throat and all the girls except Hannah squeal. “This is . . . my name is Bo and this is for my girlfriend, Willowdean.”

Now he’s got the attention of the entire restaurant.

Ellen gasps and pokes at a frowning Will. “Oh, Will, look!”

“Who cares about prom?” Will mutters.

“He’s trying,” Ellen says, and pushes Will out of the booth until she’s standing. “Give him a chance.”

Will huffs a sigh and crosses her arms.