“I think you should give him a chance.” Lucy’s midway through yet another soliloquy on Zach; she’s trying to convince me that I should keep talking to him, rather than continue with my current plan of action, aka pretending he doesn’t exist. “Just come to the show—maybe talk to him. See how it goes.”

I ignore her. I have my phone about four inches from my nose and am scrolling through Instagram in an attempt to send her the not-at-all-subtle message that I don’t want to have this conversation. Again.

“I mean, it seemed like you actually…liked him?” Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her trying to get me to look at her. “I haven’t heard you talk about anyone in…a long time.”

I roll my eyes at my phone.

“C’mon.” She nudges me with her elbow as she pulls into the short, steep driveway of her house. “May. He’s a guy—a cute guy—not the devil. And you said he isn’t down with the fact that his mom took the case. I bet it really sucks for him, that everyone knows—”

I cut her off. “Could you please not tell me how much it sucks for him? Jesus.”

She shakes her head and puts the car in park. “You know, sometimes you’re impossible.”

I glare at her, and we sit there, silent for a minute. She sighs and unbuckles her seat belt. “Fine. Whatever, May. Don’t talk to him. Could you please just think about coming to my show, though? Please? You know how important it is to me. It’s my first one with these guys…and I’ve heard the venue is actually pretty decent. Like, a step up from the shitholes I played with my last band.”

I pretend like I can’t hear her and squint out the open window. The lawn that slopes down from her house to the street is full of tangled overgrown grass, brown and dead, like her dad hasn’t been home much to mow or water it. I realize I don’t know whether he has been home; it’s not like I’ve been here much in the past few months.

I glance over at Lucy; she has her eyes squeezed shut, head leaning back against her seat rest. I swallow. Fuck.

“Fine. I’ll go.”

Her eyes pop open. “You’ll go where?”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Awww, May Day, you really do love me.” She throws her arms around my shoulders, and I squirm under her touch.

“This doesn’t mean I’m gonna talk to him, you know. I’m only going to support you.”

Lucy snorts. “Uh-huh. We’ll see about that.”

She gets out of the car, and I hold up both my middle fingers at her back.

Chapter Eighteen