As Brandon prepares my drink, I ignore the nosy text thread Lina started with Natalia, Jaslene, and me, and instead listen to my voice mail. Although it’s not entirely unexpected, the second of two messages—the first one’s spam—makes my heart sprint in my chest.

“Ms. Pereira, this is Director Cabrini at Victory Academy. I’d like to speak with you when you have a few minutes. I tried to catch you yesterday, but we missed each other.”

Oh shit. What’s this about?

“Come find me next time you’re in,” Director Cabrini says. “Take care.”

He’s probably pissed that I brought the class food from Rio de Wheaton earlier this week. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, really. I just wanted to do something nice for them. How was I supposed to know the school has a rodent problem?

“It’s DC, Solange. Rodents are a large enough contingent in this area they, too, should get their own representative in Congress, that’s how.”

“See? She’s talking to herself,” my cousin Lina says behind me. “I told you something was wrong with her.”

I whirl around and find Lina and Natalia staring back at me. “What are you two doing here?”

“Lina promised me mozzarella sticks if I came,” Natalia says as she struggles onto the stool next to mine. Then she drums her hands on the counter. “Let’s make it happen, mulher.”

Choosing to remain standing, probably to maximize her already sky-high intimidation factor, Lina folds her arms over her chest and gives me a frosty look. “You wouldn’t answer any questions about your date on the text thread, so we decided an ambush would be the next best thing.”

Natalia rummages through her purse and pulls out a snack pack of almonds. “She decided,” she says, tossing back a few nuts. “I’m just here for the food.”

“Where’s Jaslene, then?”

“On her way,” Lina says.

Resigned to my fate, I wave Brandon over. He hands me my drink and says hello to my cousins, then I order two baskets of mozzarella sticks. Because I know these women, I ask him to throw in a double order of fries for good measure. “Let’s move to a table.”

Natalia groans. “Seriously? I’m at the stage where standing takes the same effort as vigorous sex. Is it really necessary? Can’t we just roll on our sides and do it here?”

“Unless you want to crane your neck for a four-way conversation, yes, it’s necessary. And you’re going to need to share the food.”

“No, I won’t,” Natalia mutters.

I stand and hold out my arm. “Here, I’ll help you.”

As Natalia winds (and whines) her way to an empty table nearby, Jaslene rushes through Sip City’s revolving door. We wave her over, and she plops down next to me.