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Her friends exchanged a look, but didn’t say anything. “And then I’ve got a Secret Santa thing happening for my floor, so we should get . . . something,” Harper said, trailing off. “No idea what this girl would want.”

“What’s she into?”

“Um, drinking? I literally don’t think I’ve ever seen her sober.”

“Good thing your roommate didn’t get her name then,” Grace laughed. “Might have given her a heart attack.”

“Yeah, that would have been really tough for poor little Nicole,” Harper said. “But speaking of, maybe I should get something for her too? Just to show that, you know, I don’t hate her. I just don’t really get her.”

“She knits, right? What about some yarn?” Avery suggested.

“Okay, Hearth and Home, Owl’s Roost, and then Mary’s Yarn Emporium?”

“I love that she calls it a yarn emporium, makes it sound so much bigger than a tiny little storefront off Main Street,” Grace observed.

“I still don’t know what to get for my Secret Santa person, though,” Harper protested.

“Shot glass?” Grace offered.

“Oooh, perfect. Where the hell do you get one, though?”

Avery wrinkled her nose. “They’ve probably got them at the liquor store? If you can get in.”

Harper shrugged. “I’ll just have Mike grab me one next time he does a run for us,” she decided.

The girls had reached Hearth and Home, a tiny gift shop stuffed to the brim with cutesy knickknacks, at least half of which were vaguely religious. It smelled like cinnamon and potpourri, and Harper’s glasses fogged up from the heat the second they walked inside. There was an entire corner devoted to nativity scenes, several of which bordered on sacrilegious in Avery’s admittedly agnostic opinion. She picked up a teddy bear Baby Jesus and grimaced at Grace, who giggled and picked up a Mary and Joseph who were just Barbie and Ken in homemade robes in turn. (Their Baby Jesus was, inexplicably, a plastic kitten.)

Harper poked through a basket of mittens made by a group from the assisted living apartments on the edge of town, and Grace pretended to study the various Live-Laugh-Love signs hanging from the wall above it. “So we’re getting Theo a book, are we?” Harper said, without looking at Avery.

Avery knew what her friend was getting at, but ignored it. Ever since last night, what she had with Theo felt oddly private, and like something she didn’t particularly want to discuss. Being together with him this morning to put up decorations also felt too soft and vulnerable to hold up to outside scrutiny. “Mm-hmm,” she said, not making eye contact. “And I should probably get something for my roommate too.”

Harper looked amused, but didn’t comment on the change of subject. “What does Savannah like?”

“I honestly don’t know. A lot of her stuff is pink, and she’s, like, really into school events? Like football games and stuff.”

Grace held up a wineglass that had “It’s Wine O’Clock Somewhere” written on it in lurid magenta cursive. “This is pink. How about this?”

Avery snorted, but Harper snatched the glass out of her hand. “Mine!” she crowed. “Aves, just get her, like, a mug with the school mascot or something. If she likes going to sports stuff, that will probably be good. But I’m claiming this because it’s perfect.”

“I feel like that’s a bit of an exaggeration?” Grace said, looking puzzled.

“No, I mean for my Secret Santa gift. Either she’ll love it or I can just claim it’s ironic. Boom, perfect.”

“Still seems a little hyperbolic, but okay,” Grace replied. Together, they moved toward the cash register, carefully picking their way through the maze of stuffed baskets and towering table displays. “You haven’t said much about your roommate, though,” Grace pointed out to Avery.

“I just don’t know her very well,” Avery said. Up ahead, their third-grade teacher, Mrs. McAvoy, was buying what appeared to be every angel figurine the store had, so the line was already stretched halfway back to the door when they joined it.

“Is she nice?” Harper asked.

“She’s not—not nice? I don’t know, we’re mostly just very awkward with each other. She’s always busy with sorority pre-rush stuff, and I just don’t get it.”

“Does she seem to like it, though?” Grace asked.

“She does, yeah. And the week Cameron dumped me she did go buy me a pint of ice cream, which was nice.”

“Awww, that is sweet,” Harper cooed.

“Speaking of Cameron, did something happen last night?” Grace said.