All I can think about is how Zander has ruined everything. How it might never be what it was, the two of us lying on his living room floor, sorting through our history homework while his mom hovered around us with bowls of popcorn (and then chips, and then pretzels). Eventually I’d stay for dinner, because Aunt Sarah works late, and Trudy thinks I’ll starve, because I’m basically a bottomless pit. The Belles were my family, my safe place, the universe’s reward for all the crap. And Zander ruined it.

“I hate boys.” The cupcake wrapper crinkles as I peel it back, letting my fingers sink into the softness. I think about the sappy text message I almost sent to Zander this morning, the one still sitting on my phone about how I wished he had never kissed me two years ago. Don’t do it, Liv. It felt good to write it, even if I’m not going to send it.

“I don’t,” Emma says, her mouth full of chocolate. There’s a smudge of pink frosting at the corner of her lips. The ridiculous uniform for her new job at The Cherry Pit is laid across my bed waiting for her shift to start in an hour. Emma and I are on the floor, sitting cross-legged and face-to-face, while I eat my feelings. Yesterday was the crying—today, I’m just mad.

“Fine, I hate Zander, not the whole gender.”

“No you don’t.”

I glance at my phone, lying on the gray carpet next to me. Forty-eight hours, and still nothing. “I seriously do.” I unlock my phone, checking to make sure I didn’t miss anything.

“You wanna eff up his house?”

“Em,” I scold. Because she’s right, I’m not quite ready to give up yet.

“No, come on.” Emma springs into a stand. “Let’s torch it!”

“Torch what?”

“His house! I’m ready if you are.” She grabs another cupcake.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“See!” She points at me accusatorily. “I knew you weren’t ready to admit this is over.” She shakes her head, looking at me like I’m a straight-A student who just brought her first B home. “You’re ridiculous.” She takes another bite and rolls her eyes. “You should be happy you’ve been saved from your own boring-ass future.”

“Our future wouldn’t have been boring.”

“It would. Because the two of you are boring together. B-O-R-I-N-G.”

Emma and Zander have never been best friends, but there’s never been any animosity there. None that I’ve noticed before, at least. But here she is, telling me what she really thinks, apparently for the first time.

“Honestly, Liv … I don’t think this is the worst thing that could happen. You could use a little drama in your life.”

“Drama is the last thing I want,” I say.