“I just won in a fight with Gavin,” I announce to my friends, dumping my bag on the cafeteria floor and falling into the chair next to Taylor.

“So why were we talking to Gavin?” Taylor says. He puts his chin in his hand. Nevaeh pauses mid–photo shoot of Katherine in her new hat.

“Because I thought let’s make the worst decision ever when I woke up this morning,” I say.

“Mm, no. Those bangs last year were probably the worst,” Taylor says. He examines his package of trail mix and fishes a raisin out with slender fingers. He has always eaten each element of trail mix separately, unmoved by the idea that it says mix in the name of the food.

I smooth my hair down self-consciously. “They were cute!”

“I’m sorry, honey, they were not your best look,” Katherine admits, pulling the pom-pom of her hat over her face.

“They were a lot of look,” Nevaeh says.

“Are you going to enlighten us, beautiful Addiekins, who we support no matter what, even when we give you the side-eye about Gavin the Jerk, which you deserve because you didn’t tell us you were going to go talk to him?” Taylor says.

“I’m sorry!” I say, both hands up like I’m warding off a curse. “He said he had something important to say!”

“That was yesterday,” Nevaeh points out.

“So you agreed to meet him today?” Katherine says.

“I told him no,” I say, looking down. “I went anyway, though.”

“Oh, Addie,” Katherine says.

“I know it was a mistake! I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”

“Does the guilt burn?” Taylor says.

“Yes,” I say.

“Go on,” he says. “He said?”

“He was just like … like, Oh, Addie, I’m a jerky butthead with a jerk face, and I say jerky things that are jerky.”

“Direct quote, right?” Taylor says.

“Best impression of Gavin the Jerk I’ve ever heard,” Nevaeh says. “Do it again, but make the voice even smarmier.”

I flap my hand like a puppet. “Blah, blah, blah, Ellory, blah, blah, blah, penis for a head, blah, blah, blah, you’re still totally in love with me, blah, blah, blah, let’s be friends because I suck rotten duck eggs—”

“Jack!” Katherine cries. “You made it!” She jumps up, and I turn. She’s doing an awkward dance with a tall boy, half hugging him while he pats her on the shoulder. And when he pulls back, I get a good look at his face. He’s got the kind of tan skin that gets much darker in the summer, dramatic eyebrows, and a crooked nose. Transparent-rimmed glasses. A broad, serious face and chin. The face of someone who talks over people in class and doesn’t seem to notice and thinks he’s smarter than everyone else. He’s looking right back at me.

“Everyone, this is Jack!” Katherine says. “Jack, you know all the everyones.”