“Yo, Ally!” James yells from the other room before I can decide if it would be appropriate to ask Drew about the Lifetime movies. “Your man’s on the phone!”

Oh, thank God. I jump up from the couch and race to the phone.

“Yo, chill, girl,” James says as I snatch the phone out of his hand. “Where’s the fire, baby?” He’s wearing a shirt that says “outta my way or you’re gonna get played.” I roll my eyes and wait for him to move past me, back to his room. Mental note: Ask Simone what she sees in James, in order to learn some of his good qualities and therefore not be so judgmental.

“Corey?” I say, once James has left the immediate area.

“Why did that guy just call you ‘baby’?” he demands.

“’Cause he calls everyone that. Listen, I need to talk to you about something,” I say, the nausea coming on full force. I collapse into the chair by the phone and take a deep breath. Now that Corey’s finally on the line, I have no idea what to say to him. I mean, how do you ask your boyfriend if he’s cheating on you? Frank moves around in front of my face, the red light on the camera blinking at me steadily.

“What is it?” Corey asks.

“What?”

“What do you have to talk to me about?” Corey asks, sounding impatient.

“It’s about something that I heard today,” I say, the words coming out slowly, like I’m talking through a mouthful of peanut butter. I take a deep breath and decide to just go for it. “Corey, who’s Jen?”

Silence. At this point, I expected Corey to say something like, “Jen? I don’t know. Jen who?” or “Jen? I have a cousin named Jen, I think, who goes to Georgia Tech,” or “Jen? Like Jen Aniston?” or something that basically shows he has no clue what I’m talking about. But silence is not good. Silence is almost as good as saying, “Oh, Jen. She’s just one of those tanned strumpets you’ve been imagining that I’m out clubbing with every night. Only she’s not imaginary after all. The only part you got wrong was her name.”

“She’s a girl who lives on my floor. A friend,” he says, emphasizing the word “friend,” which immediately sends up red flags. Nobody goes out of their way to say someone’s a “friend” unless they’re really not.

“Oh,” I say carefully. “A friend.”

“Yeah,” Corey says, his voice becoming more solid. “She lives on my floor. A friend.” Can he stop saying the fucking word friend? “How do you know about her, anyway?”

“I read about her. Online.”

“You read about her online?”

“Yeah. On the In the House message boards. They said you and some Jen girl were hanging out a lot.”