“What happened?” I asked.

Max groaned. “Crap, we just got his mind off it.”

“Josh cheated on me,” Angus said flatly.

I frowned at Max. “Look at that face. You didn’t distract him at all. Do you want to talk about it?” I said to Angus.

He acted like he didn’t hear me. “The insane thing is, it happened last summer. I had no idea. He claims it was one time, while I was in Europe for three weeks.”

“Why the hell did he tell you now?” Lauren wondered.

“He said he needed to clear his conscience, otherwise he’d feel too guilty for us to build a future together.”

“That makes sense,” Max said. “Sounds like he’s serious and wants a clean slate going forward. If he feels bad every time he looks at you, it’ll poison your relationship.”

Neither of the other two noticed how thoughtful and serious a response that was, how unlike the Max we’d known since freshman year. Before, he was all about the quick comeback, refusing to get deep, refusing to admit he had emotions at all. He was the life of the party, and as far as anyone could tell, that was all there was to him. I knew better now.

“But he doesn’t get a free pass at Angus’s expense,” Lauren argued. “He’s the one who acted like a dick, and now he’s doing it again by hurting him with this sudden confession.”

“True,” Max said. “But sometimes you just have to tell the truth, even when it’s tough.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Any future they built together would be founded on bullshit. It sucks, but Angus has to decide if he can forgive Josh before they’ll have anything real.”

“Lauren, I appreciate the unconditional love.” Angus hugged her.

She was always fiercely, ferociously on the side of people she cared about—didn’t matter if they were even in the right. Lauren always had your back, and that was what I loved most about her. No matter how much she’d changed, that part stayed the same. Her face over Angus’s shoulder looked so sad, like she was the one with the cheating boyfriend, or a problem too heavy to solve alone, but she blinked away the tears with a determined lift of her chin.

“You know it,” she murmured.

Angus went on, “It’s awful, and I feel like puking, but Josh telling me? It was the right call. At this point, I don’t know if I can move past this, but I’m...glad he told me.”

“You feel like barfing because you inhaled all my cookies, feeling-eater.” I smiled, rubbing Angus’s back.

He narrowed his eyes. “In retrospect...they were fucking delicious and I’d do it again.”

“I can hang out today, but I have plans tonight. Will you be okay?”

“I’m taking him shopping,” Lauren put in.

Angus sighed. “I don’t want to go.”

Max pretended to fall out of his chair. “Call the paramedics.”

I was hoping Angus’s situation would divert attention from my plans, but Lauren was too sharp. “Where are you going that Angus can’t come in his hour of need?”

Time to tell them...something, though Max already knew. I kept my tone casual. “Ty, the guy who lives in 1B, asked me to go to a club in the city. We’re seeing Broken Arrow.”

“Oh, my God. You’re dating Hot Ginger?” Lauren said that so loud, I wouldn’t be surprised if Ty heard it. I pondered crawling under my bed and never coming out.

“We’re going as friends,” I said firmly.

Angus put in, “That sucks. He’s delicious.” When I raised my brows, he added, “What? Looking is not cheating.”

I could only say softly, “He is pretty delicious.”

“Maybe he’ll get drunk and grope you,” Lauren offered.

Max wore a horrified yet fascinated look. “That’s not something a girl wants. Is it?”

“If she’s into the guy, she does, especially if he’s not making the move sober.” Lauren seemed ready to argue with him, and I left them to it.

A long, long shower restored some of my equilibrium, and then I exfoliated, treating this like a date even though I had assured them it wasn’t. When I waxed my legs, I told myself it was because I might wear a dress, not because Ty might be touching them. Afterward, I moisturized and used a light bronzer, so they wouldn’t look pasty.

“Wow,” Lauren said, coming into our room. “You’re really into this guy.”

I could’ve denied it, but that would’ve been pointless. “It’s not going anywhere. He has a four-year-old, he works full-time, takes college night classes, and he doesn’t date.”

“Ouch. Your odds of a happily-ever-after don’t seem high. But let me do your toes, anyway.” She smiled and got out her kit, chock-full of sparkling colors. “Ruby-red?”

“I think so.”

To show her support, Lauren gave me a full mani-pedi. Since her self-makeover, her whole outlook had changed. At this point, she knew way more about beauty than me. Once she finished, I lounged around for an hour to make sure I didn’t ruin the polish. By now, it was almost five, and I was hungry but too nervous to eat. It’s not a date, I kept telling myself, but I couldn’t seem to internalize that fact.

“Want me to do your hair and face?”

This was part of why I loved her. Though she was worried about Angus, she’d also noticed that tonight was a big deal. No prying questions, she accepted what I offered in front of everyone else, and she was doing her best to back me up, even if she didn’t 100 percent get what was going on. Hell, neither did I.

“That would be great.”

“What are you wearing? That will determine how I make you up.”

Standing up, I duck-stepped to the closet, still being careful of my toes. I had exactly four dresses, one of which I’d worn in my cousin’s wedding, and never wanted to put on again. The other three were wrong, too, just in different ways. Lauren came to join me, then she dug into her side of the walk-in.

“I stopped being able to borrow your clothes in junior high, LB.”

“This one might work. It never hung right on me. I think it’ll be a mini on you, but try it. See how it looks.”

It was a white, diaphanous wisp of a dress, all chiffon and flutters, not the sort of thing I’d usually wear, but it was enough of a nod at flapper-style that I was willing to try. Shrugging out of my clothes, I pulled it over my head. Lauren had more chest and butt, less leg, so it was slightly loose, and it hit three inches above my knees.

“How is it?”

“It looks really cute. You’ll need a jacket, though.”

“The red one?” I tried it on.

“I think you look fantastic.” She swung the closet door closed, so I could look in the full-length mirror on the back of it. “Shoes?”

Since I wore a ten, and she wore a seven and a half, she couldn’t help me there. I settled on a pair of silver wedge sandals. Lauren agreed they looked fine, even if they wouldn’t be her first choice, but my other options were boots, more boots and Converse.

“Okay, I’ll finish your hair and makeup.” She draped a towel around my shoulders to keep the dress clean, then she went to work.

When she finished, I was honestly stunned. Part of me had been a bit afraid it would come out beauty-pageant overdone, and that Ty would think I was trying too hard, but she’d gone for sun-kissed subtle with slightly heavier hits on lips and eyes; mine had never looked so blue. I had rarely looked so striking, and my hair was fantastic. She’d loosened the curls and tamed them, so they cascaded down my back instead of sticking out every which way.

“You’re hired.”

“Glad you like it. If 1B can resist you tonight, then I’m afraid you’re destined for his friend-zone forever.”

When I walked into the living room, Max dropped the remote. “I don’t think I can let you go out looking like that.”

I grinned. “Your compliment is noted.”

“Look at those legs,” Angus said. “If you had more of a boy bum, I could be persuaded to get drunk and do bad things with you.”

Obviously, he was joking, though our freshman year before he came out, Angus had a girlfriend, and nobody knew how far that had gone. It wasn’t the kind of thing you could ask politely. From what I recalled, she had been thin to the point of boyishness. He didn’t talk about Chelsea, and after their breakup, she didn’t stay in our friend circle. The grapevine suggested she was pretty wrecked, though, and she had all kinds of self-doubt, like she should’ve noticed before he surprised her with the confession.

“You can’t make Josh jealous with me,” I pointed out.

He acknowledged that with a sigh. “Turn, show me the rest.”

I pivoted, showing off the arch of my calves. Hmm. How tall is Ty? The sandals put me over six feet, and some guys got testy if you loomed; I’d dated a depressing number of them. In fact, my high school boyfriend’s height had more to do with the duration of our relationship than chemistry or personality. Then I reminded myself that it didn’t matter how tall Ty was.

This isn’t a date.

“Fabulous. Should I be hurt that you two managed without me?”

That was a joke since Angus had never frolicked into our closets to do spontaneous consultations. Sometimes he told me my shoes were terrible, but that was the limit of our personal fashion bonding. Since I loved my Chucks, I didn’t usually care what he thought of them. But it was a good sign that he felt well enough to tease me.

“Definitely not. Lauren would’ve been sad if you had stolen her glory.”

“Maybe I should become a celebrity stylist if I drop PoliSci,” she said, thoughtful.

That started a whole different conversation, one that lasted fifteen minutes. I sat down to watch TV while Max tried to get inside Lauren’s head. Like everyone else, she rebuffed him with witty banter. I’d never seen her connect with a guy, though she used to spy on my brother with hardcore dedication. That was years ago, though. Most of us had an embarrassing crush we’d rather not discuss—for me, it was Matt Pomerico, the dude I stalked through junior high.