“Because … I saw the comment she left on my Instagram photo and her Instagram profile and—”

I turn to glare at her, spitting out my toothpaste.

“Have you been stalking her?”

“It’s Internet stalking, it doesn’t count!”

“Priti, I saw her at that wedding and I’ll probably never see her again,” I say definitively, even though I’ve spent countless hours thinking about her since I saw her comment last night. The truth is, I did a little bit of Internet stalking of my own, and Flávia is definitely living in the vicinity. I even came up with a few scenarios where I could casually “accidentally” bump into her. I’m not serious about it—I don’t think. But I’m not going to tell Priti about that.

“It’s just, she seems like bad news to me.”

“You don’t even know her.” I stuff the toothbrush into my mouth once more, hoping that’s the end of that. But of course it’s not.

“I’ve spent a lot of time … perusing her online presence.” Priti nods proudly, like this is an admirable skill everybody should possess. “And I’ve learned a lot. Like … did you know that she had a boyfriend before?”

I frown. “And?” I try to be nonchalant about it, but the information sends my heart into a tizzy. Maybe she still has a boyfriend?

“So she’s most likely straight.”

“Priti. There are more sexualities than gay and straight. Just because she had a boyfriend doesn’t mean anything.” Although it can mean a lot.

“I’m just saying that she’s dated before. You haven’t. And she dated a boy. I’m pretty sure you’re not looking to date any boys and you just don’t seem compatible and she’s probably straight and I don’t want you to get your hopes up.” She’s breathing hard when she finishes, eyebrows furrowed in anger.

I’m not sure whether I should be mad or touched by her overwhelming concern.

“Nothing’s going to happen anyway. You’re worrying for nothing,” I say even as my heart sinks a little at Priti’s words. She’s most likely straight. I had no reason to doubt that she was; taking my hand at the wedding was nothing. Straight girls do that all the time. That’s why being a lesbian is so confusing.

But I had that inkling of hope, and now I feel it wither away to nothingness.

5

I WAKE UP THE NEXT MORNING TO THE TRICKLE OF RAIN outside my window. It’s a pleasant sound on mornings when you can wake up lazily, listening to the steady hum of the rainwater beating against your windowsills. But when there’s a looming school year ahead of you? There’s nothing pleasant about it.

When I eventually get up from bed to get into the bathroom, Priti is already inside.