I’m still there when the door opens again and Chase and Danielle step out of the bedroom. They’re finishing pulling on their clothes, and I wince as Chase zips up his fly.

“Keely,” Danielle says, her voice breathy. Her arms are wrapped around his bicep, and I can smell the candy sweetness of her perfume. She’s got lipstick smudged across her cheeks, her dark hair messy like an unmade bed. I need to stop thinking of messy beds. Ugh.

“Hey, dude.” Chase lifts his arm into the universal bro-gesture to fist-bump, then brings it back down to his side, presumably remembering I’m not, in fact, a dude. Easy mistake.

“I’m so sorry,” I say again, backing away from them.

“Whatever.” Chase shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“Actually, can we talk?” Danielle motions her head toward the hall bathroom to my left. “Alone?”

“Sure,” I say, but my chest feels tight.

To everyone else it probably looks like Danielle and I are friends—which I guess, according to the rules of high school, we are. We’re in the same group and sit at the same lunch table, but we don’t really ever talk one-on-one. Looks like things change when you accidentally see someone naked.

“I’ll meet you downstairs.” Chase kisses Danielle in a way I feel uncomfortable watching, his hand just on the side of her boob, about to squeeze. She giggles and he pulls away, nodding at me. “Later, Keely.” Then he lumbers down the staircase. I can smell the stale beer on him as he passes.

Once he’s gone, Danielle pulls me into the bathroom. She shuts the door and locks it, then turns to the mirror, speaking to me while looking at herself. I don’t blame her—if I looked like Danielle Oliver I’d probably stare at myself all the time too. Her pale skin is luminous, her cheekbones model sharp, and she’s got big brown eyes that turn up at the corner, like a cat’s.

“You have to promise not to tell.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.” Some of the tension drains out of her. “I’m still playing hard to get.”

I bite the side of my cheek so I won’t laugh. Danielle and Chase aren’t dating yet, but they make sense: they’re the beautiful people, the ones you’d read about in the tabloids if high school were like Hollywood. It was only a matter of time before they got together. So I’m not sure why Danielle is so intent on keeping this a secret. It’s not like she was discreet earlier when she was laughing and chasing him in a circle around the kitchen, trying to draw on his face with her red lipstick.