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I stopped struggling and when I stood, he backed out of the car and handed me half the cake pop.

“I’m surprised you didn’t eat it all in one bite,” I said, finishing it.

“You don’t know me at all,” he said.

I laughed.

A chocolate crumb clung to his bottom lip and I reached up and swiped it away. He went still, staring at me.

“What?” I asked.

He shook his head then pointed to his mouth. “Is there more?”

“Nope. You’re just a regular mess now.”

He gestured to the entire front of my shirt that was still dusted in powdered sugar.

“Yeah, I better go change.” I threw the cake pop stick at his head as I walked away.

“I shared!” he called after me.

My back was to him when I smiled. I was so lucky to have a friend like Jack.

Chapter 3

People came. Twelve to be exact. So with me and Jack, that made fourteen. We were only freshman, so most of our friend group hadn’t coupled off yet. It didn’t surprise me that they were looking for something to do today.

The group filled the basement decently. There was mingling around the food, where people dipped carrots into ranch while reading our pro-single signs. There was laughing by the couch where people listened to the power playlist I had curated that was now flowing through the speakers. There was even someone at the table where I had set up a game of solitaire. She was playing it. Alone.

It was going perfectly. I was standing by the couch observing the splendor of our creation, when Troy came up to me and said, “Let’s play spin the bottle.”

I didn’t know him well. Jack and I shared most friends. But for some reason, when we got to high school, even though we’d been inseparable before, sometimes we found ourselves in different groups at lunch. He liked robotics, and I didn’t. I liked musicals and he didn’t. We had both joined clubs associated with those interests and found friends that didn’t know one another. It felt wrong sometimes, like now, when Troy said something no friend of mine celebrating singlehood would ever say.

“We don’t play games that encourage coupling off at a singles party,” I said.

“Says who?” he asked.

“Says the person who is throwing this party.” I jotted down the nameJulieton a yellow sticky note and stuck it to his head. Troy was handsome—a Black guy with a killer smile and smiling eyes. He wouldn’t be expecting Juliet. “Try to get people to guess which famousshould’ve stayed singleperson you are,” I said.

“Am I still alive?” he asked me, catching on to the game quickly.

“Nope,” I said.

“Am I—”

“You can’t ask the same person two questions in a row.”

“Good rule.” He was a gamer, Jack had once told me, so I was sure he appreciated solid parameters to a game. He left me to go ask others while I wrote more names on papers and distributed them. Jack joined me, adding names of his own to pass out.

“Write one for me,” I said.

He nodded, wrote something then stuck the paper to my forehead with a little too much gusto.

“Ouch,” I said drily.

He cringed. “Sorry!”

“Have you been wanting to do that for a while?”