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Deja gave Theo an assessing look. “Yes, I think everyone does…including him.”

I’d met him once before at a party I went to with Jensen, but we talked for less than ten minutes. I was sure Theo, Mr.Popular, didn’t remember. I gave him a quick glance. “Idon’t think he’s hot. And you’re right—he’s super cocky.” That was one of the many complaints from Jensen over the last year. He was cocky and spoiled and selfish with his time and not as good as he thought he was and on and on.

“Exactly,” she said.

Theo and his friends walked up to the counter, where Deja’s mom took their order. He wasn’t super tall, like Jensen, but he was strong. He had dark hair that he kept long all over. His skin was a golden brown, and he had thick lashes that curled up, making his eyes look like they were always smiling, mocking. His teeth were a bright white. And he didn’t dress like he was about to work out at any moment like so many of the football players, including Jensen, did with their athletic shorts and sloppy tees or muscle shirts. He wore jeans and a purple tee with Vans.

“I would be cocky too if I looked like that,” Maxwell muttered. Max was cute, but in a boyish way. He had a round face and a round body. A mop of red hair and freckles. Lee was handsome too: an Asian guy with spiky hair, kind eyes, and full lips. And Deja was gorgeous. She was Indian, with straight black hair and strikingeyes.

“He thinks he’s the king of his friend group, the king of school,” I said.

“Isn’t he?” Lee asked. “I don’t really know Theo.”

“He doesn’t want to be known. He keeps his group small and acts like everyone else is beneath him. I don’t even know if he likes his own friends,” I added, picturing him with his earbuds in earlier…well, one earbud, but still. “And he could’ve been a mentor to Jensen, but instead he kept him down.” I took a sip from my Coke.

“Retroactively, I’ve decided Jensen deserved it,” Deja said.

I nodded slowly. “Yeah, maybe.” I didn’t know why it was hard for me to think of Jensen’s past self as the same person who just screwed me over, but I needed to start. “Be right back. I need topee.”

In the bathroom, I shut and locked myself into a stall and tooka deep breath. I hated thinking about Jensen and the fact that I could be so wrong about someone I’d been making out with for the last year. About someone I had genuinely cared about. What did that say aboutme?

As I was laying the seat protector on the toilet, I took in the graffiti lining the door and walls of the stall, written in colorful markers or ballpoint pens.Yoga is life. The cow’s name was Fred. I sell curses.I gave a breathy laugh as I used the toilet, then flushed. After washing my hands, I joined the others at the table.

“How do your parents feel about all the bathroom graffiti?” I asked Deja.

She shrugged. “It’s a never-ending battle, so they’ve stopped trying to clean it up. They only make me scrub the super-vulgar ones now.”

“Then come be my lookout,” I said. I had a couple markers still in my purse from the posters we’d made for the last football game of the season, which was over four months ago now. I really needed to clean out my purse more often.

“Your lookout for what?”

“I need to write a message in the boys’ bathroom about Jensen.”

Maxwell laughed. “Yes! With his phone number, right?”

“For sure,” I said.

“What are you going to write?” she asked.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be on scrubbing duty.”

Deja slid out of the booth and followed me to the bathroom.

I glanced around. “Don’t let anyone in,” I said, and kicked open the door with my foot. “Hello?”

I was met with silence, so I stepped in, letting the door swing shut behind me. I beelined it past the urinals and straight for a stall. I found an open space on the back of the door and wrote:Looking for a good time or the love of your life? I could be either. I make dreams come true (mostly my own). Text me.I added his number to the end and was starting on a little heart when the door creaked open.

“Don’t rush me,” I loud-whispered to Deja. “I’m writing a masterpiece.”

When she didn’t respond, I peered around the corner and locked eyes with Theo, whose brows rose in surprise. I would kill Deja later.

“Did I make a wrong turn?” he asked, but he didn’t back out to look at the sign. He just stared at me, knowing full well that I was the one in the wrong place, not him.

I capped the Sharpie in my hand and channeled my embarrassment into snarkiness. “No, just posting some ads for the general public.”

He strode to where I stood, and his gaze went to the door.

Okay, fine, if I disregarded Jensen’s stories and the things I had witnessed, I could see that Theo was hot. Even more so up close. The ends of his hair brushed along his sharp jaw, and his shoulders seemed even wider this close. And he smelled good too, like soap and vanilla.