I turn slowly, trying not to attract attention to myself, and I see Josh sitting at a table, another boy seated across from him. I don’t recognize the guy, but he’s conventionally attractive, with black hair and light brown skin. Josh looks head over heels for him; he’s totally got that puppy-dog look in his eyes while the guy is telling some story.

I don’t want to feel jealous; that’s not what this is, the heat in my stomach is nothing, the bitterness I feel doesn’t have anything to do with this. It’s just—well, I’d like to just blame it on my period, but I don’t get those much anymore.

Who even is this guy? And what’s he saying that’s got Josh so hooked on his every word?

“Do you know who that is?” Wyatt asks.

“No, why would I?”

“I didn’t know if they might be a mutual friend or something.”

“No. Never seen him before in my life.”

There’s a beat of silence while I stare at the two of them.

“You’re going to burn a hole in the back of his head,” Wyatt cuts in.

I turn back quickly toward Wyatt, confused by whatever the hell he just said. “What?”

“You’ve never heard that expression? Staring at someone so hard you’ll burn a hole in their head.”

“No,” I say, still distracted as I turn back around. “Never have.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Didn’t you just?”

Wyatt smiles, stealing another fry. “You learn fast.”

“What’s your question?” I slide my plate out of his reach so he’ll stop stealing my food.

“How did the whole thing with you and Josh start?” he asks. “You keep saying you weren’t looking for a boyfriend—”

I open my mouth, but before I can say anything, Wyatt corrects himself.

“And I’m not saying he was! But just hooking up seems like the first step on the boyfriend journey, you know?”

“Yeah, I mean … it was only ever supposed to be stress relief. Plus, my T shots make me pretty horny.”

Wyatt almost chokes on his water.

“He was kind of my first friend—” I say, but then I double back. “Actually, he was my first friend at Steerfield. Our moms are friends, so we only kind of knew each other. Then he went to Steerfield and I didn’t see him for a year.”

Wyatt doesn’t say anything.

“That story is also pretty dorky. Josh admitted to never having kissed anyone, and I have a lot of experience kissing people, so I volunteered to help him out. And he was actually surprisingly good at it for someone with no experience, so we kept going and going and, well … one thing led to another.”

“I see.” Wyatt’s voice has gone firm. He stares down at the table again, his fingers playing with the end of his fork.