“Things aren’t going to be weird between us, right?” I ask, fiddling with my hands, staring down at my fingers. I can barely look at him. Of course things are going to be weird. “You’re my best friend. I hope I didn’t ruin that.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he says, from the other end of the couch.

“Good.” I wish I believed him. “Okay, well.”

“Well.”

The silence hangs heavy over us like a thundercloud about to break. He picks up his phone and begins texting, the tip of his tongue peeking out the side of his mouth.

“Who are you texting?” I ask. “It looks important.” I feel like I’m trying too hard to sound natural and easygoing; trying not to pry—which is ridiculous, because it’s not like I’m his girlfriend or something. The Keely from a few days ago would have grabbed his phone out of his hands or read over his shoulder. But I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get the Keely from a few days ago back. That girl is gone.

He looks up at me and shrugs. “Just a girl.”

“Another girl, eh?” I say, trying to smile. Everything feels off.

“Yeah, another girl,” he says back, his tone clipped. “Is that allowed?”

“Of course it’s allowed. That’s not what I meant.”

I want to scream with frustration. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

There’s a crunch of tires coming up the gravel driveway and then a honk sounds from outside. We both jump. James Dean. I completely forgot he was coming. No no no no no.

“Who is that?” He stands up.

“I have to go,” I say, standing up too. “I’m really sorry. It’s just—I didn’t know you were coming over, so I made plans. You can stay here if you want. I’m not trying to kick you out. I just . . . have to go.” I practically run out of the room and over to the front door. Andrew follows me.

“It’s James Dean, isn’t it?”

I wince and shut my eyes. “Yes.” There’s another honk outside, longer this time. “I’m sorry,” I say, even though I’m not totally sure what I’m apologizing for.

“I want to meet him,” Andrew says.

“What?”

“I think I deserve to meet him after all this. See what all the fuss is about.”

“Andrew, no.” I know they’ll have to meet eventually at prom, but I don’t want to push the experience any sooner. Especially when last night is so fresh in my mind.

“If he doesn’t have the common decency to at least walk up and ring the doorbell . . .” he grumbles, heading to the door. I scamper after him.

“Andrew, wait!”