“We know who you are,” Cintia says with a sheepish smile.

“And you still want me back?” I frown. “Aren’t you Pedro’s friends?”

“No one’s showed up until you did,” PC explains. “We’re a very intimidating club. It’s only for the strong, and this school is filled with cowards.” He hisses the last word at a group of first-year students walking nearby and they all jump. “So, it’s not like we can ask anyone else to join. Help me, Larissa Ramires. You’re my only hope.”

Victor chuckles at the Star Wars reference and PC looks quite proud of himself. I cross my arms over my chest, leaning back in my chair to study them, because this is all too good to be true.

“Does Pedro know you’re here?” I ask.

Cintia brushes her braids off her shoulder and leans in, suddenly conspiratorial.

“He said it’s okay if you join,” she whispers.

“Pedro—what?” My voice comes out high-pitched, and Cintia gestures for me to keep it quiet.

“He said you can join, as long as you stay out of the way, and don’t tell anyone he said that, and...what else? Ah, I remember. Act pretty much invisible,” PC explains doing magician hands.

I blink. “Pedro Molina said that?”

“The one and only.” PC smiles, flashing the charming gap between his front teeth.

“Why is he suddenly so okay with it?” I squint at them. “Tell me now if he put you up to something. This is payback for the wedding cake, isn’t it?”

The three of them look at each other, confused.

“What wedding cake?” Victor asks, chiming in for the first time.

This has to be a trap. They’re being too nice.

“Whatever you’re trying to do here, I’m not falling for it!” I say.

I get up and leave before the whole cafeteria turns into some kind of High School Musical flash mob singing a mean song about me.

There’s a line of customers waiting to put in their order at Salt.

Mom’s on automatic tonight, going back and forth from the ovens, to the baskets of bread, to the cash register. I tried helping her earlier, when I grabbed tongs to fish out bread from the baskets, but she yelled that I was just procrastinating and causing her more trouble at Salt.

So I stay out of the way.

I’m doing homework at the counter, instead, even though Mom complains I’ll get coffee and food stains on my textbooks. But studying upstairs in my bedroom is too lonely, especially on a Friday night, when having nowhere to go and zero friends to text somehow hits different than on the other days...