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She didn’t even look at me. “Yes?”

“I saw Renee in there. Wanted to see if you’re doing okay.”

She laughed shortly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Do you want me to spell it out?”

There was a long silence. Then she waved a hand, her silver bracelets jingling. “Screw her. It doesn’t matter.”

“Nah. You can totally do better than that. But it still sucks. So.”

Lara drew one leg up and picked at her boot. Her face twisted up, like she was trying to scratch her nose without touching it.

“How long were you two hooking up for?” I asked.

She sighed, clearly resigning herself to the fact that I wasn’t going to leave this alone. “Like, a year, I guess? It was only at parties. It didn’t mean anything.”

I figured. Hence, the drinking. Because if you could blame it on alcohol, then you didn’t have to deal with any awkward conversations. Like, “me, gay,what? Nah, that’s just a side effect of alcohol. Blurry vision, inability to walk straight, sudden insatiable desire to undress other girls. Wait, that doesn’t happen to everyone? Weird.”

“Do you think it meant anything to her, or…?”

“We never talked about it. Probably not. Why do you care anyway?Oh,” she said, slapping her forehead with so much exaggeration she might as well have been a Looney Tunes character, “it’s because of Will, isn’t it?”

I studied her, then shrugged. “Maybe. That, and I figured you wouldn’t have many other people to talk to about this.”

She actually relaxed at this, and made a taken-aback face. It kind of felt like a trap, but I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. “So what’s his deal, anyway?” she asked. “Is he pretending nothing ever happened, or is he just playing straight?”

“Not sure right now. You said he’s been spending time with his ex, didn’t you?” I asked.

Lara let her hands fall in her lap. “… I made that up. They haven’t been talking. Not that I know of, anyway.”

“Oh, thank God.” I grinned. To my surprise, she grinned back, and it didn’t even have the slightest hint of Evil Queen to it. I hadn’t realized she was capable of that when it came to me.

“Do you think he still likes you?” she asked.

“Will? I don’t know. No clue.”

“Ugh. Don’t be that person. Figure it the hellout, okay? I can’t stand people who float around, wringing their hands and hoping someone sees how goddamnspecialthey are. If you want him, go after him. If you don’t, find someone else, and make sure you flaunt it in his face for good measure. It’s sure as hell what I’m gonna do.”

Now this was the Lara I recognized. Even though she was snapping, however, she was snappingwithme, not at me. She shook her head, but half-smiled at the same time. By God, we were making progress! At this rate, with a little positive manifestation and a sprinkle of mindfulness, we’d be making friendship bracelets and inventing handshakes by New Year’s.

Footsteps at the entry to the alley made us both look up. Juliette and Niamh had found us, their heels clattering on the concrete.

“I was texting both of you,” Juliette said. “Where’d you go?”

Lara stood up and folded her arms. “Wasn’t feeling the vibe in there. Call me old fashioned, but I’d take a house party over a group of schoolkids getting high off sugar. Kind of juvenile, don’t you think?”

“Lara, in case you haven’t noticed, this night isn’t about you. We’re here for Ollie. Can’t you pretend to have a good time for an hour or so?” Niamh snapped.

Juliette blinked, looking shocked. Even I was a bit taken aback. Niamh had been pretty quiet toward Lara ever since the great mashed potato incident of 2019, but I hadn’t expected her to openly confront her

Lara and Niamh faced off. It seemed like they might throw down. That, or Lara might even apologize. Instead, Lara pulled her flask out of her pocket, took a deep swig, then handed it to Niamh. I guess it was a gesture of peace, even if it wasn’t exactly an apology. “Why pretend?” Lara asked.

Niamh studied the flask, her face stony.

“Come on, you two,” I said in a quiet voice. “Talk it through, or let it go. Holding grudges isn’t going to solve anything.”

Lara folded her arms. “I’m not the one who—”