I flinched at that, hard. Not only because it was insulting, but because it was way too close to the truth. “You’re not at the bottom,” I said, and then Abigail, Amanda, and Mary Beth were there, and I was frantically blinking back tears and faking a huge smile.

“Hi, girls!” I said with forced brightness.

“Hey, Harper,” Mary Beth replied, but her eyes were on Ryan. “Are you guys . . . okay?”

“We’re fine,” Ryan and I said in unison, too quickly. Abigail and Amanda exchanged a look, and I stepped closer to Ryan, slipping my arm through his. His forearm was like a rock under my fingers, and I could still feel the tension humming through him. Even though he was smiling at the girls, I knew they could sense it, too.

There was an awkward silence before Abigail said, “Is Ryan trying to drag you to that stupid Hard Fists movie?”

“Grooooosssss,” Amanda drawled. “I hate stuff like that. Ryan, be a good boyfriend and take your girlfriend to The Promise. Y’all can sit with us.”

“Mandy,” her twin said, elbowing her in the side. “They probably want to sit alone at the movies.”

Mary Beth swallowed, and her shoes must have been really fascinating for all the attention she was paying to them.

“Oh, please,” Amanda said, delicately picking out a piece of popcorn and tossing it in her mouth. “Like Ryan and Harper are the make-out-in-the-theater type. That would be like . . .” She screwed up her elfin face. “My parents doing that or something. No offense, guys.”

I waved her off, but under my other hand, I could swear Ryan got even tenser. More people were coming in the door now, and as I moved closer to Ryan to avoid the crush, he stepped the tiniest bit away. Ignoring that as best as I could, I held on to his sleeve tighter. “Actually, I want to see Hard Fists.”

Amanda and Abigail both snorted in disbelief, but Mary Beth’s lips lifted in a little smile. “It does look kind of badass,” she offered, and Amanda and Abigail swung identical frowns at her.

“Ugh, no, it does not, Mary Beth. All that violence and blood and . . . bleh.” Amanda shuddered.

“Maybe you need a Y chromosome to properly appreciate the amazingness of Hard Fists, Amanda,” Ryan said. Then he nodded at Mary Beth. “Or maybe you just need to be a cool chick like MB here.”

MB? Since when did Ryan have a nickname for Mary Beth? It wasn’t like anyone else called her that.

Mary Beth’s face flushed, and while I thought pink was supposed to look terrible on redheads, she actually looked really pretty with a little color in her cheeks. And there was a softness in Ryan’s grin as he looked down at her that I recognized. He used to smile at me like that.