Eliza’s whisper sounded like truth bubbling out of a cauldron of buried secrets. I’d left my phone upstairs, but if I could’ve made a bet, I’d have said it was around 3:00 a.m.—the time people tell only the truth.

Three in the morning was when Madison had admitted to me that she was sleeping with other people because she didn’t want anyone to get too close. On another day, it was the time I’d told her she didn’t have to worry about that with me. Three in the morning also was the time at parties when whoever is still there starts discussing the mysteries of space and someone inevitably asks, Do you think we’re alone?

“Josh kind of seems like the clingy type,” Eliza continued. “I might need you for an emergency.”

“So you can avoid hanging out with him?”

“Yeah. Occasionally.”

“To clarify,” I touched my chin for dramatic effect, “you want me to help you avoid the guy you’re dating.”

Eliza busied herself by turning off the video game equipment. Her hair caught the blue glow from the projector screen, making me want to joke that she seemed possessed. I didn’t.

“It’s just . . .” Her voice emitted waves of anxiety. “I don’t know. He kept trying to make out with me all night, and he wouldn’t leave me alone after I asked, and he didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell Carter,” said Eliza. “It wasn’t exactly that I didn’t want to . . . he got a little f’ed up and I didn’t want to, you know, take advantage.”

The gigantic room began to feel too small. “Are you . . . okay?” Giving her a hug felt appropriate, but we’d had that weird conversation. And now this. And I had no idea if she wanted me to.

“Yep. Thanks, Nick.” She yawned, solving the situation for me by brushing it off completely. “I’m glad we can be friends.”

“Me too.” Staying friends meant taking the pressure off whatever it was I felt when I was around her. Which was nothing important. Or plain nothing? Friends was something I could do.

“Hey,” I said as she turned towards the door, “is your shoulder okay? I could give you some stretches—I’m pretty much a stretching expert.”

Whatever happened to her shoulder couldn’t have helped how she felt about tonight.

She put a foot on the bottom of the stairs and leaned against the railing. “That would be awesome, thanks, Maguire. First, sleep.”

“You got it, pal.”

“Smell ya later, then.”

Friends.

RULE NUMBER 5

A bro shalt not wake up before 11:00 a.m. on a Saturday.

The clock read 10:07 a.m. Somehow, my legs felt relaxed and my mind felt as if I’d chugged six iced coffees—the main coffee a bro subscribes to.

A whiff of cinnamon goodness drifted into my room, followed by the heroic scent of casually cooked bacon. I headed downstairs to find Carter and Eliza already sitting at their dining table.