“Should we meet Saturday to finalize the slides?” I ask as class wraps up, copying our outline into my notebook. “After the game? There’s a lot to pull together before Monday.”
“But Saturday’s the Alpha Delts Heaven & Hell party. Aren’t you going?”
I school my face into neutrality.
“Right,” I say, summoning a smile that feels passable. “The party. Of course.”
I can’t believe it.
There’s an Alpha Delts party this weekend, and I didn’t even know. Hayes hasn’t said a single word to me about it. Was he ever planning to?
Or… was I just not invited?
Rebecca studies me, her expression sharpening. “Hayes didn’t tell you?”
“Of course he did,” I say, a little sharp, even though Rebecca isn’t the one I’m mad at.
Thirteen years of friendship, and I have to find out about his parties now from someone who barely knows him?
“I meant Sunday, obviously,” I say, forcing my voice calmer. “Let’s meet then.”
The rest of the week passes in a strange sort of limbo. I keep expecting to run into Hayes, maybe on campus or at his apartment when I stop by to see Argy, thinking he’ll act normal again and casually mention the party. But our paths never cross.
By Saturday night, I’m simmering with the kind of anger and frustration that has nowhere to go. The worst part is I can’t even call Hayes to yell about it without looking unhinged. The last time I saw him, I practically fled a restaurant in tears. Adding more drama isn’t going to fix anything.
I sit at the dinner table with my mom and Amber, keeping my head down and focusing on the food so I don’t say something to my sister I’ll regret.
Tonight’s meal feels like another gastrointestinal insult: Caesar salad without dressing or croutons, fake-meat meatballs over spaghetti squash instead of actual pasta, and a parade of steamed green vegetables, no sauce in sight. It’s a full spread of Amber’s clean-eating favorites.
If anyone had bothered to ask what I wanted, I’dhave said fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Or maybe a greasy, cheese-loaded pepperoni pizza. Something that doesn’t taste like penance.
But of course, no one asked me.
“You look beautiful, honey,” Mom says, smiling at Amber who looks like some kind of goddess come to life. She’s still in her robe, but her hair’s already curled and pinned with crystal barrettes. Makeup dewy and flawless.
“Thanks, Mom,” Amber says sweetly, squeezing lemon into her seltzer.
Mom turns to me, eyeing my oversized hoodie and sweatpants with mild disapproval.
“When are you getting ready for Hayden’s party?” she asks. “I assume you’re not wearing that.”
“I’m not going.”
I stab a meatball and shovel it into my mouth, not even caring how disgusting it is. The last thing I want to talk about right now is Hayes.
“But Ambrosia said it’s a big costume party.” Mom blinks, clearly confused. “She said everyone would be there.”
Amber groans. “Mom, I told you—they’re not speaking.”
“Still?”
My fork slips from my hand and hits the floor with a loud, metallic clang. “Can you please stop talking about me like I’m not sitting right here?”
“Sorry, honey.” Mom winces and takes a long sip of her honey-lavender tea. “I’m just surprised. You and Hayden hardly ever fight.”
I push my plate away.
“We’re not fighting.”
