“Not everything Danielle says is right.” Her voice is soft. “I get that she told you Dean wouldn’t like you anymore if he found out, but that’s not necessarily true. If he likes you, he’ll wait.”

“When I lied to him, he seemed so relieved,” I say, looking up at her and then covering my face with my hands.

“He’ll understand if you tell him you lied,” she says. “And if he doesn’t understand, is that really someone you want to be with?”

“Yes!” I say, pulling my hands away. “I like him so much. He’s smart, and interesting, and way too cool for me, and I just don’t want to mess this up. You don’t get it, because it’s always been easy for you. You’ve always had guys who liked you. If you stop being interested in someone, it doesn’t matter, because you have a million other guys who can step up and take their place. That doesn’t happen with me. This is my only chance.”

Hannah’s chewing on her bottom lip as she studies me. “Do you really think that?”

“I don’t know why Dean likes me in the first place,” I say. “It’s like this crazy fluke and that’s why I don’t want to ruin it.”

“Do you really think it’s been so easy for me?” Hannah brings her hand up to fiddle with the skin on her collarbone, the place where her necklace used to lie. “Do you think Charlie was easy?”

“That’s not what I meant.” I realize I’m kind of going off the rails—this whole situation has made me a bit crazy. “Of course Charlie wasn’t easy.”

“What are you going to do?” she asks, her eyes softening.

I can’t give her an answer. I don’t have one.

FIFTEEN

ANDREW AND CECILIA are slowly making me want to gouge my eyes out with my fork. We’re sitting in study hall together and she’s feeding him—actually feeding him—making airplane noises with her spoon as she brings it to his mouth. I’m pretty sure Andrew knows how to feed himself. He’s been doing it pretty successfully for like eighteen years.

“He’s not a baby,” I say, looking away as Cecilia takes the spoon out of his mouth and drops it back into the container of strawberry yogurt. She ignores me.

“Do you like Tootsie Pops?” she asks him, reaching into her backpack. “Mr. Savoy was giving them out in Spanish earlier.”

“Hell yeah,” he says, and she pulls out two.

“Grape or watermelon?”

“Watermelon,” he says, and she hands it to him.

“I like Tootsie Pops too,” I say, just for fun, because I know she’s not going to give one to me.

“You want some?” Andrew asks, pulling it out of his mouth and offering it in my direction.