I realize it’s useless and turn on House Hunters instead. There’s something comforting in the pointlessness of it; happy couples whose biggest problems are whether they can afford granite countertops or an extra bedroom for their cat.

I’m almost on hour four when I finally work up the courage to call Andrew. He doesn’t answer.

I set my phone down on the coffee table and turn back to the TV, trying to focus, but I keep looking back at it, willing it to vibrate. And then it does, just a quick burst, indicating a text message. I reach for it eagerly and feel a little deflated when I see that it’s from Dean, which is so completely backward.

DEAN

You playing hard to get?

ME

What?

DEAN

You never called me back

I suck in a sharp breath. He’s right—I completely forgot he called last night, when I was still at Andrew’s house. I can’t believe I forgot to respond. I usually overanalyze our texts so much, but right now I don’t really care. It feels like there are more important things.

But maybe this is a good thing. Danielle said I should play hard to get anyway. Even though my first instinct is to apologize, I think about what Danielle would say.

I was busy

I shut my eyes, clutching the phone in my hands but unable to look at it. He takes two commercial breaks to respond.

Wanna get pizza?

So it worked. Of course it worked. Danielle is a master. I look at the clock and see it’s 5:30. I can’t believe I wasted the entire day on the couch. My clothes feel sticky and my hair is matted to my forehead. My stomach rumbles. I have to get out of the house. I have to do something, anything to take my mind off my misery. And being with James Dean sounds like the only thing that could fully distract me.

ME

I always want to get pizza

DEAN

I can come pick you up

I text him my address and run upstairs to take a shower and pull on some clothes. My mom knocks on the door just as I’m zipping up my jeans.

“Feeling better?” Her eyes are soft with concern.

“Yeah.” I rummage through my closet and find my birthday sweater before remembering it’s covered in blue glaze. I push it away quickly so my mom won’t see.

“Are you going somewhere?” She walks farther into the room and reaches an arm up as if to stop me. “I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

“I’m just getting pizza,” I say. “I haven’t eaten all day.”

“I could make you something here. We just picked up some fresh veggies from the farmers’ market.”

“It’s okay. I want to go out.”