Lucy knows I’m lying, I know I’m lying, but what else is there to say? I don’t know what my deal is. The sound of instruments? Starting school again? The fact that my parents suck? The looming anniversary of That Day, which is in just over a month? Everything and nothing, balled together into one giant shitty mess?

She sighs. “You know you can talk to me, right? Look, I’m sorry about earlier, in the car. I know you’re pissed at me for ditching you….” She runs her hand through her curls. “You have to understand, though: I need to get a scholarship. I gotta get out of here, you know? My dad’s been acting weird again these past couple months, and his new girlfriend isn’t helping matters….” She trails off. “Just know that it’s not personal, okay? I love you, obviously.”

“I get it.” I feel like a self-centered bitch. “I’m sorry. I love you too.”

“I know.” She glances at her watch. “I hate to cut this short, but I gotta get to the thing, okay?”

I nod and motion for her to lead the way.

Chapter Eight

I’ve been trapped in this room for about ever with Conor, Matt, and fucking Rosaline, who apparently now goes everywhere with Matt. When I walked in with Conor earlier, Rosa’s eyes opened so wide I’m surprised they didn’t pop right out of her head. It’s been thrilling thus far, sitting here, watching my best friend make nice with my ex-friend and my ex-girlfriend make out with the same ex-friend. It’s like one of those stupid CW shows Gwen likes so much come to life, and one of the main reasons I haven’t been to one of these practices in months. I’d rather be at home, listening to my dad’s TV blaring from his bedroom upstairs, eating a frozen dinner alone, than here. I’d rather be anywhere but here.

Matt’s being a total bag of dicks too, big surprise. Whenever I remember how once upon a time I was under the impression that we were friends, it makes me feel like a moron, not to mention question why I even wanted to be friends with him in the first place. He’s a tool who’s currently kissing his girlfriend with his eyes open and glancing at me to see if I’m watching. The whole thing is creepy as fuck. Rosa really picked a winner there.

I’m gathering my stuff, getting ready to tell Conor that I’m bailing, when the door to the room creaks open and this beautiful girl pops her head into the room. She does a quick survey of the setup, which, let’s be honest, is a total mess and super–amateur hour, and then her eyes fall on me.

“Hey.” She waves from the doorway.