“Do you want to look around a bit?” she asked, after we paid for our fancy mac and cheeses and strawberry lemonades at the Cheesecake Factory.

“Sure!” I slung my Michael Kors purse over my arm and we made our way toward one of the department stores.

We talked about the social media posts of people we hadn’t seen since eighth grade as we waded through the semiformal dresses in the Juniors’ section.

Claire picked a dress up off the rack and held it up. “This one would look really cute on you. You have the boobs for it,” she said. “I wish I did.” She adjusted her T-shirt.

“There’s nothing wrong with your boobs,” I said as I walked over to her.

She rolled her eyes. “You say that, but you don’t know I’m wearing a bra with two cup sizes of padding.”

I laughed and examined the dress. It was lavender with a sweetheart style neckline. I took the hanger from her.

“I did already buy a dress, but this one is really pretty.” I mentally counted the babysitting money I still had after lunch. “And if I end up going to two dances, it would be nice to have a different dress.”

“Two dances?” she asked, not looking up from the rack as she pushed a bunch of dresses over, the hangers making a loud screeching sound.

“Well...” I bit my lip and looked at the dress, not her. “Maybe I if I go with Chris, to um, your school’s.” I looked up, wanting to gauge her reaction, in case he’d said anything to her about me.

Her head snapped up. “Chris, like Chris Miller?”

“Um, yeah.”

“How does he even know you exist?”

I flinched. “We talked at your party. And we’ve been texting since. We have a Snapstreak.”

“I don’t know.” She picked up a dress. “That might not mean anything. He talks to a lot of girls.”

I put the dress back on the hanger. I don’t think he talks to a lot of girls as much as he talks to me.

Heck, there would be no time left in his day. I was falling behind on sleep and deadlines talking to him, and there was definitely no one else in my picture.

By the time I pulled into my driveway after the mall I had a text.

Chris: Why did you think we’d be going to hc together?

I stared down at the screen, the radio still playing and the engine still running, and suddenly it felt like my heart was in my butt.

Me: I didn’t mean to assume anything

Me: I just thought with how much we’ve been talking

I sighed and turned off the engine while I tried to formulate my next text, explain to him what I thought he was a part of. What I thought we were.

My phone buzzed in my hand.