“Y’all aren’t serious,” Simone says. “You’re not going to really hurt her.”

“Why not?” Jasmine says. “She messed with my girls. And me.”

“But you’ll get kicked off the show,” Simone says. “It was in the contract we signed: ‘I will not cause bodily harm to others or myself.’”

“Good point,” I say, still upside down.

“Besides, she’s not worth it,” Simone says from the chair where she’s sitting.

“Fine,” Jasmine says, taking her coat back off. “For now. But I reserve the right to go after her at a later time, if I so choose.”

She sits down next to me and surveys the spread of ice cream, brownies, chips, and drinks that’s laid out before us. Calories I’ve consumed within the last two hours: 20,317.

“What is this?” Jasmine asks, picking up a glass and taking a sip.

“Diet Coke with Lime,” Simone says.

“You just lost your virginity, then got dumped and outted in the school paper, and you guys are drinking soda?” She looks disgusted. “I have so much to teach you two.”

“Alcohol is part of the reason I’m in this mess to begin with,” I say, sitting up. The blood drains from my head, and I close my eyes, enjoying the rush.

“Drinking made Kelly write bad things in the school paper?” Jasmine asks.

“No,” I say, “but it did make me sleep in the same bed with Drew, which gave her more material to write about. Pass me a brownie.”

Simone picks up the plate and hands it to me.

“How many of those have you had?” Jasmine asks, looking at my disheveled hair and pajama’d body.

“I dunno,” I say, taking a huge bite. “Four? Five? I figure if I get really fat, no boys will want me, anyway, so all my problems will be solved.” I look at her. “So what happened to you the other night?”

“What do you mean?” Jasmine asks.

“With what’s-his-face. That guy from the party you left with.”

“Oh my God,” Simone says. “You left with some guy from the party? How did I not know this?”

“Nothing happened,” Jasmine says, looking uncomfortable. “He walked me home because I was a little tipsy, and that was it.”

“But you weren’t home when I got here,” I say, frowning. “Because no one was. I ended up on the bathroom floor, alone. Not that I’m blaming,” I quickly add.

“Lightweight,” Jasmine snorts.

“So where were ya?” I ask, not willing to let it go.

Jasmine reaches down and pulls at the leg of her tight black shorts. “I, um, spent the night at Dale’s.”

“Oh my God!” I shriek. “You gave up some random hookup for him!”

“No, I didn’t!” she protests. “That guy at the party was a total loser, and so—”

“We know, we know, you got bored,” Simone says.

Silence.

“He’s totally your boyfriend!” I declare gleefully. I pick up another brownie off the plate and take a bite.

“He is not!” Jasmine says.

“Is.” Simone.