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Will.

I’m heading to the parking lot. Meet me there in 1.75 minutes?

His chair squeaked as he hopped up and clapped Matt on the back. “Hey, I’ll be back, bro.”

“Your milkshake just got here.”

“I can’t help it. And don’t youdaretouch it while I’m gone.”

Matt grinned. “You know I can’t promise that.”

I tracked Will out of the corner of my eye. He headed over toward the restrooms, but then, casual as anything, veered left to go out the back door.

All right. Time to count down. One-point-five-three minutes until I had to pull the same maneuver.

I leaned in to whisper to Juliette. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

“Where are you going?”

Really?Really?“You know. Just over, ah, to the…”

“Oh, bathroom?”

“Yeah.”

She lowered her voice even more. “It’s just, I thought you might be going to meet Will like he asked you to.”

Oh my God she totally eavesdropped on my text. Or, like… eyesdropped. What was the visual equivalent of eavesdropping? Actually, no. Irrelevant. With as much dignity as I could muster, I rose to my feet, gave her a pointed look, and headed over to the restrooms. Super casual, just like Will had.

Then when I got there, I turned around to check if anyone was watching me. Juliette caught my eye and smiled, and I paused, frozen, terrified someone might notice her glancing at me. Super not casual, the exact opposite of Will.

But what else was new.

IthinkI made it outside without anyone other than Juliette catching on. In fact, I was so distracted by the whole mission that I briefly forgot I was kind of pissed at Will. But then I saw him, leaning against the wall near the edgeof the building with his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, and oh boy I remembered.

I stalked toward him, arms folded. “Yes?”

He lit up when he saw me like the way he used to at the lake when I’d torn him away from his thoughts. Somehow, this annoyed me even more. He could at least acknowledge that I was annoyed. He didn’t have to look so happy to see me.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi.”

“You’re not eating?”

What an icebreaker. “Not hungry.”

He nodded, then opened his mouth. Then closed it, opened it, then closed it again. He folded his arms against the cold and stepped from side to side. He looked like an unusually melancholy square dancer. Well, at least he wasn’t acting all cheerful anymore. “I feel really stupid,” he said.

“Uh-huh.”

“God, I don’t even know what to say. It just slipped out. I’m so used to acting a certain way around the guys, you know? It’s not me, I know it’s not me, but I always joke with them, and they expect me to say things, so I don’t even think.”

I didn’t say anything.

He sighed, and tipped his head back. “I’m really sorry.” He peeked at me, but I still didn’t reply. I mean, whatcouldI say? That it was okay? Because it really wasn’t. “I’m a dick because I’ve always been a dick around my friends” wasn’t really an excuse.

“I like your jeans,” he tried. “And your music. And you in general, really. So much it’s ridiculous. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since Thanksgiving.”