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“I haven’t,” I answer. “To be honest, I, uh, think I’m a little underdressed, but it looks nice.”

I don’t even convince myself with the fake enthusiasm I put into the word ‘nice.’

“It looks kind of douchey,” Kenzie blurts.

I burst out laughing. “Oh my god, I am so glad you said that. I thought it looked kind of douchey too.”

She smiles—a real smile, not just a smirk. My breath catches at the way she glows and glimmers like a city skyline on a snowy night

“To be totally honest with you, I hardly ever go out in the market. I kind of hardly ever go out at all. I just picked this off Google Maps because it described it as an intimate venue with...I think it said ‘cozy alcoves and mood lighting.’”

“Oh?” I lift my eyebrows. “And why would you want to pick a place like that?”

My moment of flirty confidence gets snatched away as soon as she turns those catty eyes on me. They’re basically a military-grade weapon of mass destruction.

“Because I have a bet to win, and there’s a lot I could do to make that happen in a...cozy alcove.”

I swallow to wet my parched throat.

“With mood lighting,” I add, a little wheezy.

She throws her head back and laughs. “Yes. Never underestimate the power of mood lighting.”

“So...” I peer through the window into the crowded room. “Should we go in?”

Kenzie does the same for a moment and then shakes her head. “You know what? It looks packed in there. I don’t think we’d find any alcoves, and there’d probably be, like, douchey guys all over us. Do you want to find somewhere less busy? Maybe just a pub or something?”

Relief washes through me, unclenching my muscles, and I realize just how much I was gritting my teeth at the thought of going in there.

“That sounds great. I’d tell you to lead the way, but apparently you don’t come here often either.”

We settle on walking around until we find something that calls to us. We’re quiet for the first few minutes. I’m aware of every single one of her movements. I haven’t seen her in person since the day of the last competition—the same day she had me pinned against a wall with my skirt pulled up to my waist—and the memory simmers between us like a firework with its fuse lit, seconds away from exploding.

“I kind of thought that bar was like, your kind of place,” I say, since conversation seems like a necessary distraction if I want even a hope of winning this bet.

Kenzie stops in the middle of the sidewalk. “Are you saying you think I’m a douche?”

Blood rushes to my cheeks. “Wait, that totally came out wrong. That’s not what I meant.”

She puts her hands on her hips and cocks her head to glare at me, but there’s amusement hiding under the threatening tone of her voice. “So what exactly did you mean?”

“I mean...” My eyes drift down her body, to the outfit that’s as put together as everything else I’ve seen her wear when we’re not at dance competitions. “You’re, like, fashionable, and you’re...I mean, you know you’re really hot. There’s no way you don’t know. I guess I’ve just always thought you’d have, like, a whole crew of admirers around you at school and invitations to every party and...”

I trail off when I realize how deep this is getting, how much I’m revealing I’ve thought about her for years.

“So basically you think my life is an episode of Gossip Girl with some highland dance thrown in?”

“I mean...”

I try to come up with an argument, but that sort of is exactly what I thought. I took what I knew about her, what I saw when I looked at her, and I filled in the gaps with every stereotype I’ve been fed my whole life.

I pressed her into a mold I thought was made for girls like her—the same mold that’s always made me feel like I’m not enough because I don’t even have a hope of squishing inside.

Maybe that mold isn’t built for anyone. Maybe we’re all just trying to measure up to some hollow piece of plastic no one’s ever actually been able to fill.

“I guess I’ve just always been jealous of you.”

The admission slips out before I can stop it. I expect some kind of knowing nod or even another smirk from Kenzie, but my sentence makes her mouth drop open and her hands slide off of her hips.