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Alvin had said my name. By mistake. Or on purpose. It didn’t matter. It didn’t change anything. At the same time, it changed everything for all three of us.

I leaned my head against the wall.

“He’s an idiot, you know.” Omar sighed.

I almost laughed, except I was the idiot he was talking about.

“He’s complicated,” Alvin replied, and Omar left a few minutes later. I heard the door open and shut. Then the room went quiet.

I stayed in the stall. I had no idea what I was waiting for. Maybe Alvin to leave. Maybe the floor to crack open. Maybe God to appear and tell me how truly fucked I was. Maybe those pigs Alvin was talking about to finally appear. Who the fuck knew?

The curtain jerked aside. And Alvin stood there wearing his soaked shirt, his wet hair plastered across his forehead and his eyebrows doing that thing where they pinched in the middle. His mouth doing the same.

Then his glare narrowed in on me. “Were you hiding in here?”

“No.”

He cocked a hip and shifted his weight onto one foot. “You’re standing in a shower with the curtain closed.”

“I was changing.”

“In the shower stall? With what clothes, Dee?”

“I was about to… uh…”

“Were you listening? To us?”

“No.” I shook my head, which made my answer even less believable.

“Dee…”

I looked away while rubbing a hand over the back of my neck. It was a telltale sign I was lying. Alvin knew that but I couldn’t stop myself from doing it.

He folded his arms, and I forced my eyes up to his face. “How much of that did you hear?” he asked me.

“Enough.”

His mouth tightened. “How much, Dee?”

“I heard you and Omar, you know…”

He nodded. “You heard me say your name.”

I didn’t confirm it. But I didn’t deny it either.

A flush climbed up Alvin’s neck until it was almost the color of the pink nail polish he’d borrowed off Cindy. It looked better on him.

I shook that thought from my head. Alvin cleared his throat. “That was an accident,” he insisted.

“I know.”

“Well, you don’t have to look so pleased about it.”

“I don’t look pleased.”

“You look like you’re about to frame the moment and hang it over your bed next to your Margot Robbie poster.”

“I do not.” I shifted uncomfortably on my feet. “I mean, I don’t even have that poster anymore.”