“Cupcakes,” Carter answered, “same old Austin Banks too.”

Ms. O’Connor, whom Eliza referred to as Olivia (and whom Carter merely called Mom), was the most popular mother at Cassidy High School, if not the entire town. After her cupcake start-up was featured in the Boston Globe as the area’s cutest side hustle, Ms. O’Connor went all in. From the comforts of her next-level professional kitchen, she catered events all over the Northeast. Austin and I were big fans of her work.

“Ah.” Eliza leaned back against the cracked leather cushion. “Yes, let me check my bag for the four dozen cupcakes Olivia donated from her fundraiser to these hooligans.”

She gestured to our classmates, who now sat on the tables and played pizza crust football. (A game like paper football, but with delicious carbs.) Austin slowly ducked to glance under the table—just in case. Her blue bag rested against her neon running shoes with no cupcakes in sight.

The lights dimmed to signal the evening atmosphere.

“How was Australia?” I asked.

“Awesome. Good to be back, though. I never want to see another kangaroo again.”

“In that case, Carter,” I said, “you should probably leave.”

“Burn.” Austin coughed.

“Good one, Nick. Real wit right there,” Carter replied.

After inhaling her slice, Eliza stood to go talk to her other friends. Apparently, she was too cool for us now. Good for her. “Thanks for the pizza, guys,” she said, “Cool glasses, Austin.”

Austin’s glasses had been the talk of North Cassidy when he got them a few months ago. Scared of sticking contacts in his eyes and paranoid of becoming a classified dork, Austin went around without wearing them for a year after they’d been prescribed. After Carter and I refused to let him drive anywhere anymore, Austin picked out the most hipster frames he could find, which girls claimed perfectly matched his brown eyes. He should not have been worried. He’d gotten them a month before celebrities started wearing glasses exactly like his, and now they were popping up around the whole school. Austin’s ego would never be at risk again.

Austin barely waited for her to be out of earshot. “Hardly recognized her, dude. Can’t believe it’s only been a year.”

“I know.” Carter shuddered. “Josh Daley asked her out yesterday. A month ago he didn’t even know who she was.”

Josh Daley? I wanted to scream. Josh Daley and I had been on thin ice ever since he tried to get me cut from soccer in sixth grade.

“That kid is such a tool,” I said.

“She shot him down, thankfully. That’s not going to be the end of it, though.” Carter took the last bite of his pizza as a few families with super little kids entered the restaurant. Normal people’s dinnertime meant our afternoon was ending.

“Sorry, man,” Austin said.

“You’re in a bunch of Josh’s classes, right, Mags?” Carter asked.

“A couple electives, since we procrastinated taking them. Wish I could skip, but the lame school board calls that ‘truancy.’”