Hours later, the four of us head to the great room to collapse. It’s close to senior curfew and we should be hustling, heading back to our real lives in the dorms and leftover homework and snacks we hide under our beds and whatever sleep we can get. But with the music lower and slower now and the lights turned down even lower than that, being all wrung out and happy makes us want to just find a place to be very, very still now, in the mostly empty house. All the younger kids have scattered back to the dorms for their earlier curfews.

“Ellory and Gavin,” Katherine says when she plops down on the couch. I put my head in her lap to stretch out luxuriously flat, but groan at that. Oh, them.

Nevaeh is sprawled in a straddle split on the floor, uncoiling her bun so that her braids spill over her cheeks. Her long toes are pointed gracefully. She wrinkles her brow.

“Oh, those two,” she says.

“You okay, Nevvie?” I ask. I will knock heads if this has upset her.

“It’s been a minute since we dated,” she says. “It’s whatever.” Holding a handful of braids in one fist, head cocked to the side, she adds, “How about you, boo?”

Gavin and I spent time together during our summer intensives last year. First just flirting, and then making out, and then I decided to get naked with him, the night of the final showcase. I was amped up by my performance, the adrenaline, the applause, my head still ringing. It was my first time, and it was an adventure, except for the part where I got unexpectedly shy when he touched me and I panicked, wondering what he was thinking when he squeezed my hips, skimmed my belly. Hard work to put it aside and just kiss him. But I did, and I slept with him two more times because I liked it and I thought I maybe, possibly really liked him. Then summer ended and other students came back to campus, and he started avoiding me. He ditched me with a text: sorry, didn’t know you thought we were a thing.

I stared at that text, and I realized: He was embarrassed of me.

And I was so mad at myself, because I should have known better, should’ve seen through him, should’ve remembered how so many hot guys actually believe that fat girls are desperate and that I should be grateful for their charm. Like Christopher, trying to ruin my night.

But the thing with Gavin was months ago.