“It’s a public lake, Hazel. You don’t need an invitation.”

But I know what she means. Lake-related conversations echo down the halls at school. Everyone who is anyone goes there most weekends. Most weeknights, too, in the summer.

But no one has ever suggested Hazel and I should go. We haven’t even suggested it to each other. We really do need a life.

“Okay,” I say, taking a hair elastic out of my pocket and tying my long, dark hair on top of my head. “Let’s do it! Let’s meet at the lake tonight. And please act normal.”

She scrunches up her face. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. You know you can’t hold back from telling people exactly what you think, and not everyone appreciates that. I’m not always going to be there to back you up.”

“Ah, but you will be there tonight.”

“Best. Behavior.” I raise my eyebrows in warning.

The last thing we need on our very first outing is to be ostracized. I’m not really sure what kind of reception we’re going to get anyway.

The café bell dings obnoxiously from the force of the door being shoved open.

Hazel and I look over at the same time to see two handsome college guys walk into the café, dressed in clothes that probably cost more than my parents’ car.

I think their names are Caleb and Owen. I know of them because their superrich parents are part of an organization that donates a lot to local charities.

They live a few miles out in a development with the other wealthy people, and only come to this part of town when they’re dropping off donations.

But are they donating to the café? Not that it couldn’t use an injection of cash, but it’s hardly a charity.

Hazel cranes her neck to get a better look at them. In fact, everyone in here is doing the same thing. I glance over my shoulder as they head to the counter. I can’t figure out what they’re saying, even though the room is so dead quiet, you could hear a mouse sneeze.

After a minute, they’re handed two takeout cups of coffee. As they turn to leave, I swing my head back, biting my lips together.

Oh crap. I hope they didn’t catch me staring.

My face heats up like an inferno, and Hazel’s eyes widen at me. I don’t know if she’s trying to tell me that I’m busted? Or is she marveling at their chiseled beauty and matching, sleek haircuts?

What products do they even use to get their hair that shiny?

They pass by us, and out of the corner of my eye, I see one of them turn his head to look at me. What do I do?