As I close the door, I try to ignore all the eyes following me. The confused ones from Mason and Julian, the accusing ones from Annalisa, and the intense ones from Aiden. But this is bigger than they know, and they don’t need all of us to go to a bar and ask some questions. I’m doing this for Kaitlyn, I’m doing this for Annalisa, and I’m doing this for myself. I can’t sit aside and be okay with a man thinking he can control a girl. Not now, and not ever.

Everything will make sense to them in less than twenty-four hours. I know it looks bad and confusing right now, but once I can explain everything, they’ll understand.

After we fine-tune our plan, Kaitlyn drops me off at home to get my car, and I follow her to Ryan’s house. For the first part of the plan, Kaitlyn is going to show up at his house, where she assured me he’d be home alone. She’s going to gather all her “old Kaitlyn energy” aka demanding scary bitch energy, and accuse him of forgetting some anniversary and demand that he take her out.

I park my car down the street and turn it off, ducking down in my seat so that I’m not visible. Ryan’s neighborhood isn’t bad. It’s nothing like Kaitlyn’s with the circular driveway and punch-code gate to get in, but it’s not sketchy like Luke’s apartment.

Kaitlyn pulls into his driveway, gets out of her car, and bangs her hand against the door. A few moments later, Ryan answers. His hair’s messy and he’s wearing jeans with a Commack Silver High hoodie. They talk for a bit at the front door, then Kaitlyn gets visibly offended. She’s very expressive with her hands, her arms flailing out every which way. I can just imagine what she’s saying.

What? You’re telling me you didn’t plan anything for today? How dare you forget that today is the two month anniversary of the first time you held my hand?! or some other absurd thing.

Every time he tries to speak, she nags over him. Eventually, Ryan pinches the bridge of his nose in exhaustion and Kaitlyn perks up, then he disappears into the house.

I guess he gave in. Fine, Kaitlyn. Whatever. Happy three month anniversary of the first time I looked at you for longer than ten seconds. Let’s go.

I laugh at my own improv and duck down farther when Ryan emerges from the house with a jacket and his car keys.

Kaitlyn stops him and says something. She’s telling him she needs to use the bathroom but wants her seat warmer already going when she comes back. They argue for a couple of seconds out on the driveway, then Ryan, apparently too tired from their first argument, rolls his eyes, thrusts his house keys at her, and turns to walk to his car.

Kaitlyn practically prances up his steps and unlocks his front door, disappearing into the house. Not even two seconds later, Ryan starts honking.