Maybe he’s right—I don’t want to be the girl who makes a big deal about everything, who thrives on drama, who makes everything difficult. So I shrug and take a bite of pizza, trying not to wrinkle my nose when I feel the slimy mushroom between my teeth, trying not to think about how I am willingly eating fungus.

“See?” Dean says. “They’re good, right? It takes seven full meals of something before your palate gets acquired to the taste. You just have to try more things.” He leans conspiratorially over the table. “I can be your guide.”

“They’re okay,” I say, not wanting to let him down. I do want to try new things and I want Dean to be the one who shows me how, but mushrooms will always be mushrooms.

“You’re cute when you chew, you know that? Your nose crinkles.” I bring my hand to cover my nose, embarrassed, but Dean pulls it aside. “Don’t. Your nose is perfection.”

I can’t help the small burst of pride his compliment gives me, and suddenly I don’t care about the mushrooms at all.

Beside me, Andrew clears his throat. “Should we get the check?”

“We just got our food,” I say.

“What are we doing after this?” Danielle asks, piercing her salad with her fork.

“We could all go back to my place and hang out for a while,” Dean says. “You guys want to come over? I’ll just leave the bike. We can walk from here.”

“I don’t know,” Andrew says. “It’s kind of late.”

“We should definitely go,” Danielle says.

All three of them look at me, as if waiting for me to make the decision.

“Okay,” I say. “I guess we could go for a little while.”

TWENTY-TWO

A FEW HOURS and another bottle of wine later, we’re sitting in the living room at Dean’s house, grouped around the TV, where a seriously competitive game of Mario Kart is taking place. Dean and I are on one couch with Cody, all three of us leaning forward and staring intently at the screen, trying to win. Danielle is the only one who isn’t playing. Instead she’s sprawled out next to Andrew on the love seat, her legs in his lap.

Usually I can kill it at this game, but I feel like my fingers aren’t quite connected to my brain, and I’m having a really hard time focusing on the race when I can see Danielle’s long tan legs out of the corner of my eye like some commercial for shaving cream.

The wine combined with the circular movement of the cars on the screen has made me a little dizzy.