“No, Deflector.” Ethan sighed. “Davis is great, but we both realized there’s nothing extra there. We talked about still going together—two openly gay seniors, walking into the gym, making a statement. But it’s our last Winter Formal and we both want to go with our friends. He’s got Pauline and Brad and that whole group, and I’ve got Jude and Celia and the other musical people, including you and Margot, if you stop being too cool for school. Plus, of all the dances, Winter Formal has the most baggage. It’ll be good to be all together.”

“Baggage for who?” I asked. I knew Margot had had the blowout with Izzy at the ice rink, but that was before Winter Formal.

“Mmm, what?” Ethan looked at me a little too innocently. I could have let it go gracefully, but screw that.

“Whose baggage? Yours?” Ethan’s face didn’t change, so I assumed not. “Jude’s?”

“Alina, I’m trying to subvert the ‘gay boys are gossips’ stereotype. You’re not making that easy.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not gossip, it’s… information. Information that you’re giving to a mutual friend, which will help her be more sensitive if she ever talks about Winter Formal with Jude.”

Ethan stepped in front of me and started walking backward so he could look me straight in the eye. “Alina Keeler. Why would you be talking about Winter Formal with Jude?”

“I won’t be,” I said so loudly a few people looked over. “I just meant, in case it comes up. When Jude’s around.”

Ethan kept staring at me, still walking backward. A few seconds later he returned to my side, but he still didn’t say anything. We got out of the tunnel and climbed the stairs to the second floor. “Maybe you should know,” he finally said. “A cautionary tale.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Now I’ve built it up. It’s not juicy or anything. Sophomore year, when Jude and Diya were a thing, Diya got a finalist spot in some musical theater song contest in Pittsburgh.”

“I didn’t know they had those.” I wondered if it was like ballet competitions, where you performed a variation in front of judges for the chance to win a shot at a prestigious school or summer intensive. “Do they give scholarships?” I asked.

“I don’t know, that’s not the point. The point is, the contest was on the night of Winter Formal, so she ditched Jude.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. The freaking night of the dance, she just calls him and says she’s not going. You should have seen it. Jude in his suit, holding a corsage box… I know it sounds like a scene from a bad teen rom-com, but the pain was real.”