Back in my room, Erin has turned my dresser into a makeshift bar, and I decide to have one of her drinks partly to be nice, partly because the idea of a caramelly alcoholic beverage is hard to resist, and partly because a buzz maybe wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Cammie is right: my life has been a suckfest lately.

The quantity of vodka Erin adds is just this side of ruining a good thing, but I top it off with more Starbucks and it’s actually kind of yummy. We gather around the snacks on the bed and shove our faces full while we chat.

“Zoe, how would you feel about us skipping the cast party after STOTS?” Syd asks. “So we can celebrate your birthday?”

“Yeah,” says Erin, pausing to cough and make a face at how strong her drink is. “We want to do a sleepover at my house. Can you?”

I quickly run through it in my mind. Jonah will be home, but I’d mostly be gone while he’s sleeping. “That sounds great!” I say. I’ve been on the fence about the cast party anyway, feeling not really a part of the cast but also not really a part of the crew. “Thanks, Erin.” I reach over and give her arm a quick rub. “That’s really sweet of you.”

“We are making amazing plans,” Syd says, exchanging a conspiratorial look with Erin. “Can we tell her?”

Erin leans over to me, her long blond hair nearly falling into my drink. “Jell-O shots,” she whispers.

Yikes, I think, but I try to respond with enthusiasm. I catch Cammie’s eye, and she’s smiling at me, but there’s something in her expression that makes me realize she might know I’m ambivalent about it.

I do my best to get with the spirit of things, and to my surprise, the evening is fun. No one brings up Hunter, which I’m grateful for — especially because I know that’s probably largely what motivated this intervention. And no one mentions my absence from the cafeteria these past couple of weeks. I’m sure they assume I’m just avoiding Hunter.

But my thoughts keep returning to Sam, despite the distractions. It tugs at me kind of uncomfortably, imagining what she’d think of this superficial, boozy gossipfest. At one point I get up to check my phone, which no one even notices. But there is nothing new from Sam, and I can’t help fretting a little. Did I do something? She’s been quiet so much longer than usual.

But what if it’s not me? What if something happened? What if her mom is stuck in a circuit of counting to four into infinity? What if Sam needs something? Or someone?