“THAT’S THE SADDEST IDEA EVER. You can’t get dressed up for Winter Formal and then eat waffles instead,” Ethan said. We’d started meeting by the senior lockers and walking to English through the tunnel together.

“You say that like they’re any old waffles. We’re talking Waffle Country waffles. It’s different.”

Ethan held out his hand. “I’m not questioning the superiority of Waffle Country waffles. I’m not a monster. I’m just saying, sometimes Margot decides she doesn’t like something just because other people here do like it. She doesn’t give this school enough credit.”

“Or maybe you give it too much credit?” Ethan had a confusing amount of school spirit. His Instagram was famous because he documented all Eagle View’s happenings. Football games, band concerts, Quiz Bowls, charity car washes, dances, and everything else, all in his signature warm, saturated colors that turned every mundane moment into a work of art. When he posted something new, it got hundreds of likes within the hour. The local paper had already used a few of his pictures for their website.

“Look, I’m not an idiot,” Ethan said. “I know a lot of people here only talk to me because I make them look amazing on Instagram, and they’re afraid that if they don’t talk to me, I’ll make them look bad on Instagram. But I don’t care. Interesting things happen here. I like taking pictures of them.”

“What interesting things?” I asked, highly skeptical.

“Lots of stuff. Victories, defeats, the soul-crushing awkwardness of a first slow dance, declarations of love. Well, no love declarations yet. But maybe one day.”

“Love declarations?”

“Like if someone professed their feelings to someone else in a super-public way. It would be an amazing shot. The emotion! The stakes! But no one here has the balls.”

We slowed down as a guy and a girl walking a few feet in front of us stopped short, causing a hallway traffic jam. “I thought you said you blocked her number, Devon,” the girl said.

“I did, dude, it must be some problem with my phone.”

“Don’t call me dude, you know I hate it when you call me dude!”

I looked at Ethan as we skirted the couple. “Wow. So interesting. I’ll wait if you want to take a picture.”

“Stop deflecting,” Ethan said. “Come on, you and Margot have to come to Winter Formal. The theme is ‘Neon.’ The best worst theme in the history of formals. And it’s just one night. What’s the problem?”

The problem was, I didn’t want a repeat of the pre–cast party. Running away and practically hyperventilating in the car. “I don’t know. I just… I think waffles would be better. Anyway, are you going with anyone? Davis?” I knew that Ethan and Davis had hung out a few times since the pre–cast party.