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“What are you giggling about?” I ask.

Rory answers without peeling her eyes from the screen. “Poppy is texting the group chat.”

“Which one?”

“Titty Committee,” Anna says.

Rory adds, “She’s wondering if you and Daisy matched for today and if you’re nervous to be meeting her parents.”

“I’ve already met her parents.”

But not like this.

My phone’s lying face up on the dresser, yet the screen remains dark. I muted that group and Poppy personally shortlyafter she started using it as a way to bug me religiously about Daisy. The spam of messages was quite literally waking me up at night.

Poppy’s the type of person who will slam her finger on theNotify Anywayoption if you’re trying to silence her. A full mute was the only way I managed to sleep the past three nights.

She didn’t need me to tell her that Daisy had spent the weekend with me at my parents’ house. Darren spilled it to her the moment I got back home and sent him anI’m alivetext.

I’m ignoring him, too, because of it. The loudmouth.

Actually, there’s a whole lot of ignoring people going on right now in our inner circle. Me and Poppy, me and Darren, and as of Sunday night, Daisy’s been avoiding me.

I’ve never seen a bedroom door shut as often as hers has been since the moment we got back from my parents’ place five days ago.

She hasn’t noticed the new wicker basket in the living room that’s currently overflowing with her blankets. The written list of songs from her playlist that I wrote out and slipped beneath her door went unnoticed, maybe even crumpled and tossed out.

I haven’t been able to shake my discomfort for days. I’ve been home by dinnertime every night and have taken to refusing clients left and right because I know my absence had hurt her, and I’d rather not do that shit again. The only thing that’s done for me is remind me what it feels like to eat dinner at the table alone every night.

Something feels wrong, but fuck, I don’t want to think about the possible reasons for her pulling back. Not when the one at the forefront of my mind is that it was our kiss that ruined everything. That she hated it so much she’s decided not to go through with this anymore.

We need to talk and air shit out before I go insane. This avoiding one another act we’re both pulling is immature, and I’m ready for it to be over.

“She wants to know what you’re wearing,” Rory says, watching me in the mirror.

“Tell her to come here herself if she’s so interested in my outfit.”

Anna looks up next, worrying her lip. “Are things okay between you two?”

“Why wouldn’t they be?”

“Well, you haven’t really been talking to each other as much,” Rory puts in.

“She’s been gone.”

Anna dumps the phone on the bed and perches on her knees, her hands cupping them. “It’s okay if you’re upset that she’s gone, Bryce. I miss her too.”

My throat tightens as I grip my phone and tuck it into the back pocket of my jeans. The sleeves of my black shirt reach my wrists, and the matching puffer vest Anna forced me into is constricting. She was very confident in her outfit advice, and I hadn’t wanted to argue, given that I stood naked in my bathroom contemplating my life choices for twenty minutes. That’s where she found me.

“I always knew she would outgrow this place. It’s fine. I’m happy that she’s happy,” I say, fighting a flinch.

“Daisy’s home, right? She’s here?” Rory asks, changing the subject.

I shoot her an appreciative glance, even if Daisy isn’t my ideal topic right now either.

From the first day we met Rory, I knew she was more like me than the other girls. Not only do we both have complicated familial relationships, but we’re harder-walled than other people are.

Anna and Poppy are kind and thoughtful, but sometimes, they forget that not everyone is that way. There are some things I don’t want to talk about, and being pushed to do so will only make me retreat further into myself.