“Chase isn’t a bad guy,” he says. “If he said something, it was probably because he was excited, not because he was trying to embarrass her.”

I think again of the note Danielle got the other day, someone actually calling her a slut for losing her virginity to a guy she was into. Could Chase have written the note? It doesn’t seem like something he would do. Andrew is right—Chase might be dumb sometimes, but I don’t think he’s the kind of evil to shame a girl he slept with. The note could definitely be from Ryder. But why would Ryder go through the effort of disguising his handwriting if he was going to call her names today in person?

“Ryder called Danielle a slut today,” I tell Andrew. “To her face. How is that okay?”

He stops the cart so fast I bump into it. “It’s not okay. Fucking Ryder.”

“Yeah, but how does he always get away with shit like that?”

“Just wait until next year,” he says. “If someone acts like an asshole in college you can just stop hanging out with them. We just have to get out of high school and it’ll be better.” It’s the mantra we’ve been repeating to ourselves since high school began. I just hope it’s true.

“Hey, Collins, what does this look like to you?” Ryder lifts his taco in my direction.

“It looks like a taco,” I say, sprinkling some cheese onto my own and trying to ignore him. We’re standing at the kitchen counter, the spread of toppings laid out in front of us in various containers. Andrew is on the stool next to me, and Chase is across the counter with Edwin Chang and Ryder’s sidekick, Simon Terst, who might be even worse because he actually looks up to Ryder like he’s some kind of hero.

“Exactly,” Ryder says. “A taco. A muffin. A tuna sandwich.” He waggles his brows. “Get it?”

“No,” I say, my voice flat and sarcastic. “Explain it to me.”

Ryder tilts his head to the side, a smile frozen on his face, and I can see the cogs turning behind his eyes as he tries to figure out if I’m serious.

“She’s got it,” Andrew says.

“Hey, Terst.” Ryder ignores Andrew and turns toward Simon, holding his taco up to Simon’s nose. “Bet you’ve never been this close to a taco. How’s it smell?”

“Fuck you.” Simon swats Ryder’s hand away. “My life is an all-you-can-eat taco buffet.”

Ryder starts laughing at this, and not in the nice way. Simon is small and twitchy and is almost blind without his wire-rimmed glasses. Danielle started referring to him as the Rabbit back in sixth grade, and the nickname kinda stuck.

“Sure, man,” Chase says. “You’re drowning in tacos.”