“Are you and Micah going to make up?” Ivy asks me. “Or are you dumping him for that Cybil girl.”

“What? I’m not — sheesh, Ivy. Micah’s the one not talking to me. I’ve tried. And I can be friends with more than one person.”

“Unless you’re more than friends.” She pokes me with her foot from under the blanket.

I blush. “What are you talking about?”

She giggles. “That’s what Sam was saying about you two. That you looked like you were in love.”

“What the heck? They were gossiping about us?”

“They weren’t being mean. Micah didn’t seem too happy about it, though. He said it was none of their business.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. He still really loves you, even if you aren’t friends anymore.”

“We’re still friends. We’re just in a fight. And Cybil and I are not a couple.”

“Why not?”

“Because we aren’t! We hardly even know each other. And —”

“And what?”

I want to say, She’s a girl. But I don’t. Because that shouldn’t matter. And I want to teach Ivy that. “And I don’t know,” I say. “But we’re not a couple. We were just talking and getting to know each other. That’s what new friends do.”

“You don’t have to get all worked up,” Ivy says, mimicking the way Micah would say it. She takes a sip from her cup, which makes her look like a big kid and a baby at the same time.

I laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, you dodo. You’re just silly.”

“Well, I hope you and Micah make up soon. It’s no fun when you aren’t together.”

“I’ll try. Promise.”

We spend the rest of the afternoon watching Scooby-Doo episodes we’ve already seen a hundred times. Every so often, I check my phone to see if Micah texted to check on Ivy, but he never does. I think about how Ivy said Micah still loves me, even if we aren’t friends. The thought makes me feel so empty inside. Empty, and angry, too. Whatever happened to together forever? Did he just mean, as long as I didn’t become friends with anyone else? Or . . . more than friends?

I snuggle closer to Ivy, even though it’s hot and she smells funny. She slides the pillow closer to me so we can both touch the soft red letters. Instead, I put my hand on hers and squeeze.

“I love you, Rach,” she says, looking up at me.

“I love you, too,” I say. “Even if you have a little puke on your cheek.”

She smiles mischievously and rubs her cheek on my arm.

Chapter Fifteen

When my parents get home, they have just one bag of groceries instead of the usual four or five. Ivy starts to ask where the rest of the food is, but I nudge her and she shuts up fast.