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“He said he didn’t want to go anymore.” My uncle clicks his tongue, like he’s annoyed with me.

I click my tongue right back. “Tell him you don’t need him. Peter will be more than enough help.”

“Jesus, woman. If your eyes get any bigger, they’re going to bulge out of your head.”

“Please. It’s important.”

“Sorry, babe. He asked if he could work. I already told him yes.”

“You’re so stubborn!” I whip open the door and Axel turns to face me. “You can’t miss the formal.”

“Jamie, the formal isn’t happening. Face it!”

“Oh, it’s happening,” Olivia says, rounding the corner. “If I got my little Beamer to make it over here, the senior class will find a way to make it downtown. Come hell or high—what’s the saying?” She pauses to ask me.

“Water,” I answer.

“Right. Come hell or high water, the formal is a go! And I expect you to hold up your end of the agreement,” Olivia says, eyes on Axel.

“Verbal agreement. I didn’t sign anything,” Axel says before looking back at my uncle. “You ready?”

I exhale loudly at my uncle as he passes me with a shrug. “I’ll work on him,” he whispers, but I know it’s a lost cause. The whole thing is.

“Artists are so temperamental. We have bigger problems anyway,” she says, rolling her eyes. She proceeds to remove her coat and boots. “There are one hundred and fifty-two full-time students in the senior class.”

“Okay,” I reply stoically, watching the front door close with a thud.

Olivia types furiously into her phone. “I have an idea.” Before I can ask what that idea is, she pulls my arm, leading me up the staircase.

Once we get to the top, she stalls.

“Which one is yours?” she asks.

“Follow the mess,” I say, nodding to my bedroom. The floor is mostly cleared off because I needed space to rehearse my performance, but the rest of my room is probably in the worst shape it’s ever been in.

“My room is ten times messier,” she says with a laugh. “It drives Ben crazy.”

“He hated my room too!”

“He’s so uptight.” She flops down on my bed, and for a moment I think to myself how strange it is that Olivia Chen is in my room.

I pull up my desk chair and sit across from her. “So, what’s your idea?”

“One sec.” She holds up a finger before typing into her phone again. I glance around my room to see my formal dress hanging in the closet and sigh. What if Axel doesn’t change his mind? Is there even a point in hoping anymore?

“Okay,” Olivia says, bringing her attention back to me. “One hundred and twenty-one students are attending the formal.”

“One hundred and twenty-three, if you add Axel’s friends. One hundred and twenty-four, if you count Axel,” I say.

“Here’s my idea. We charter two buses! All of us live close enough to the school to make it there, even if by foot. And then from the school we’ll take the bus to the CN Tower. It’s the best way to ensure the most people come.”

I cock my head at Olivia.

“What?” she asks, oblivious.

I breathe out an exhale, feeling like a mean parent who’s about to burst the bubble of my child’s ridiculous dream. “First of all, how are we going to charter two buses this late in the day? It’s almost three o’clock. Secondly, how do you expect to pay for these buses? Thirdly,” I say, while throwing an arm to my bedroom window, “did you forget Frosty and all of his descendants exploded all over the city last night?”

Olivia straightens while crossing one leg over the other. “The snow stopped hours ago. Plows have been working overtime. I have no doubt that Front Street is clear. In terms of cost, the social committee’s accountant just messaged me that we have a surplus. We were going to use it for senior prom, but we’ll just find another way to raise money before then. As for booking two buses, I’m already on it. Don’t worry so much. I’ve got this,” she says, giving me one of her signature smiles. I can’t imagine being that confident. It’s probably one of the reasons I was so envious of Olivia in the first place. She doesn’t question everything like I do. She just goes for it.