“It’s for chaperones,” Ms. Mulaney explained. “Stocked with snacks and coffee so we can try and stay awake.”
“Mickey bars, too, right?” Carlos asked, raising an eyebrow.
Ms. Mulaney grinned. “I can neither confirm nor deny the presence of free ice cream,” she said as she checked her watch and then walked away. “We’re leaving soon,” she called to us. “Get your things together!”
“Where did you hear that?” I asked Carlos, but he didn’t respond—because he and Amy were back to making out again. I shrugged and pulled out my phone, and started scrolling through my social media apps. I stopped when I saw a story posted by Tabitha Keith, promoting her new makeup line.
Tabitha Keith, as the daughter of a movie star and a musician, had been famous practically since she was born. But now, as she was starting to get movie roles herself and was constantly having her picture taken while she got brunch or coffee, her profile had exploded. Her makeup line had just come out, a skincare line was in development, and she had been heavily rumored for a role in the newest superhero team-up movie.
“What?” Bryony asked, looking over. I tilted my phone screen so she could see it. “Oh, I was thinking about trying her new stuff,” she said. “The really pink blush?”
“It’s wild she’s our age and has a makeup line,” I said, as her next story started—this time she was washing her face in a bright-white bathroom and talking about how her skincare line was going to revolutionize clean beauty.
Bryony laughed. “I mean it’s not like she had to raise money and develop it for years. I’m sure that she’s just the face of it.”
“Still,” I said, then closed out my stories. It was very clear that Tabitha never had a bad-skin day—or probably any kind of bad day—in her life.
Bryony’s phone beeped, and she pulled it out of her bag. Her eyes widened as she looked at it, and she grabbed my arm. “Cass! I just got an email from Mermaid Café! Did you get one, too?”
The Mermaid Café was the centerpiece of Bryony’s summer plan. She had a whole vision for how the summer would unfold—we’d both get jobs, ideally with shifts together, at the Mermaid. She was hopeful that even with no food service experience, we could get hired as servers—but if not, she was willing to take a hostess position. In addition to getting to work together and make good tip money, she hadlotsof other plans. She wanted us to drive down to San Diego for their legendary fireworks display on the Fourth and was determined to spend every Friday at the beach. And she’d announced that we alsohadto take a long road trip before she started school at University of Washington and I went to ?Berkeley.
“Let me check,” I murmured as I unlocked my phone, keeping my eyes averted. “Hmm…”
“They’ve received my application and they’re processing it,” she read, her voice going high and excited. “And if they’re interested, they’ll call this week for an interview!” She leaned over to look at my phone. “Check your email. I’m sure you got the same one.”
I checked my email, knowing full well that there wouldn’t be anything there, but hoping I pulled off pretending there would be. “Nothing yet. But I’m sure I’ll hear soon.”
Bryony nodded, twisting her long, pink-streaked hair into a messy bun. “If you don’t hear soon, I’d reach out to them. It’sreallyimportant that we both get this job.”
“Totally,” I said, bending forward and letting my hair fall over my face, shielding it from view. I tucked my phone in my purse, taking a little more time than was strictly necessary, just trying to keep my face averted so Bryony wouldn’t be able to read the truth on it.
Because the fact of the matter was, there was no way I was going to be getting an email from the Mermaid Café about my pending application there. I hadn’t put in an application—after all, what would be the point?
My phone beeped, and I looked down at it in surprise. “Is that them?” Bryony asked.
I shook my head. “AirDrop.” I squinted at the screen, then realized that the photos that had been sent to me—all of my classmate Renee Burrows making kissing faces—were most likely not intended for me.
“Renee?” I called, looking around. She was a few people behind us in line and raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah?”
“I think you meant to AirDrop Cassidy, right?” Cassidy Zeppes was standing by the front of the bus—everyone knew Renee had a huge crush on her.
“Oh,” Renee said, turning a deep red. “Uh—sorry, Cass. Just saw the first few letters.”
“It happens,” I said easily, already rejecting the AirDrop. “No worries.”
“Bryony! Cass!” I looked up and saw the Emmas coming toward us. The Emmas—Emma R., Emma J., and Emma Z.—were best friends who all shared a name. (Technically, Emma R. was anEmily, but she’d been allowed in anyway. She’d argued that Emma Stone, one of the pre-emma-nent representatives of their name, was technically also an Emily, which apparently had been enough to convince everyone.)
Bryony had told me that the Emmas had been really nice to her when she’d been dumped by her ex and then her whole former friend group. And even though they’d been really welcoming, the Emmas were theirownunit, and had been ever since middle school, so it just wasn’t the same. Bryony had always felt like she was just slightly outside the jokes and traditions, and when I’d come to town, she’d gone back to being a more casual friend of theirs. I hadn’t spent a ton of time with the Emmas, but we’d always gotten along, and I smiled now as I saw them coming toward us.
“Hey, guys,” Bryony said, giving them a smile. “Are you on our bus?”
Emma R. gave us both quick hugs, while Emma J. shook her head. “We’re on bus one,” she said, pointing to the front of the line. “We should get going.”
“But we just wanted to say hi!” Emma R. said with a grin. “Aren’t you so excited? It’s going to be the best night ever, right?”
Emma Z. scoffed, and I glanced at her in surprise. Her face looked drawn, her eyes were puffy, and she stalked away to the first bus without a word, her head down and her shoulders hunched.
