“I don’t know if anything is. Really,” I said quietly. Sure, what Ethan said would explain why we’d get close and then back away. If Jude actually liked me. But maybe he was just a good person who saw a sad person and wanted to help. Maybe his stepping back meant he just wasn’t interested. “He might not—”

“He doesn’t not,” Ethan said, looking at me seriously.

Wait. So, he did? Coming from Jude’s best friend, that meant something.

“He can’t not,” Margot added, nudging my leg under the table with her boot.

“And I’m not gossiping, because I’m not telling you anything you shouldn’t already know. I’m stating an objective truth,” Ethan said, running a hand through his curls.

“Not gossip. Very objective,” Margot repeated.

“What’s very objective?” Jude appeared at the booth.

“Uh…,” I said eloquently.

“Puberty stories,” Margot broke in. “I was telling my puberty stories, and Ethan said they were very objectively gross.”

Jude gave us a skeptical look before taking off his bomber jacket and sliding into the booth. I scooted all the way to the wall so our arms wouldn’t touch. The waiter came and I took the time to regroup. As we waited for our food, Laney and Ada walked in. Apparently, Waffle Country was a super-popular breakfast spot before Saturday rehearsals. “You guys going to the rink tonight?” Laney asked.

“Fred will be there.” Ethan pointed to Jude.

“Gene, too,” Jude said.

“Stop.” Margot groaned. Jude and Ethan high-fived as Laney and Ada went to join a couple of other girls from the chorus a few booths away.

“Why do we have to go there?” Margot said. “I’m happy I’m not friends with Izzy anymore, but I’d still rather not return to the scene of the ice proposal.”

Right. Margot and Izzy’s blowout happened at the ice rink.

“Screw Izzy,” Ethan said. “Create new ice rink memories with your infinitely cooler musical friends.”

Jude nodded. “And if Izzy’s there, we’ll be like the Wilis and dance her to death.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me. Ethan and Margot shared a knowing look.

“Uh-huh,” I said, a bit too loudly.

Margot gave us a small, grateful smile. “All right, fine. But no bailing!” She locked eyes with me on the last part. We all swore to show up. Then, as Ethan told us about his “Make ’Em Laugh” choreography, a movement caught the corner of my eye.