The only way I can think to fight this is to text Rebecca and tell her I’m free to hang out after school.

He doesn’t care. I tell him I made plans for during the assembly, and he genuinely doesn’t care. He doesn’t ask to be invited along. He doesn’t even ask me what the plans are. He’ll go home and play video games. He won’t text me unless I text him first. I know all this—but why do I still feel surprised, as if it isn’t meant to be this way?

Rebecca decides she’s in the mood for ice cream, and convinces the rest of us we’re in the mood for ice cream, too, even though it’s not summer and the nearest good ice cream place is about twenty minutes away. It is, as we expected, surprisingly easy to get out of the assembly—we figure the visiting author won’t miss us too much, since none of us have ever heard of him. Rebecca, Ben, and I pile into her car, and Stephanie and Steve meet us there. Steve is wearing the effects of the weekend more obviously than Stephanie is; she looks like she spent the past two days at the gym.

We get our cones and head for a table. When we start talking, it’s not about the party, but everything that happened after—all the cleanup that had to be done, all of the bullshit with the police, who didn’t end up arresting anyone. They just wanted to break up the party and they did a good job of it.

Stephanie admits she was a little relieved. “There are some people,” she says, “who will never leave a party unless the police come.” From the sound of her voice, I know I’m supposed to know who she’s talking about. I have no idea.

“I really liked your cousin,” I tell Steve. “He kinda saved the night for me.”

Steve looks confused. “My cousin? When did you meet my cousin?”

“At the party. Nathan.” I almost add your gay cousin, but then I realize I have no idea if Steve knows.

Now Steve laughs. “At my party? I don’t think so. All my cousins are, like, eight. And none of them are named Nathan.”

I don’t understand what he’s saying.

“But I met him,” I say lamely.

“Oh dear,” Rebecca jumps in, patting my hand. “It sounds like you met someone who said he was Steve’s cousin.”

“But why would he say that?”

Stephanie shrugs. “Who knows? Guys are weird.”

What’s hurting me is how honest he seemed. How real. Now it’s like I’ve made him up.

“He was wearing a tie,” I say. “I think he was the only guy wearing a tie.”

“That dude!” Steve laughs. “I totally saw him. He’s not my cousin, but he was definitely there.”

I wonder if Nathan is really his name. I wonder if he’s really gay. I wonder why the universe is doing this to me.

“I can’t believe he lied,” I say.

“Again,” Stephanie chimes in. “Guys are weird.”

“And certainly you’re used to a little lying?” Rebecca adds. “This guy probably liked you and didn’t know how to deal with it. That happens. It’s not the worst kind of lie.”

I think she’s trying to make me feel better, but I’m stuck on that first part—certainly you’re used to a little lying.

“Justin never lies to me,” I say.

Rebecca plays dumb. “Who said anything about Justin?”

“I know what you meant. And I’m telling you—Justin can ignore me and say the wrong things and go into his moods, but he never, ever lies to me. I know you don’t think we have much, but we do have that.”

Rebecca and Stephanie shoot a look at each other, clearly not believing me. Ben is checking his phone. Steve still seems amused that some guy crashed his party pretending to be his cousin.

I hate this feeling—my so-called friends thinking they know my life better than I do. And I hate it even more this time because I thought I’d had the opposite with Nathan. Stupid, for sure, after one conversation and one email exchange. But still. Whether it was real or an illusion, it makes a rip when it goes.

Steve starts to argue with Stephanie about who was the most wasted guest at the party, and my questions about Nathan seem to have been quickly forgotten. We finish our ice cream and then don’t know what to do—we’ve only been hanging out for about fifteen minutes, but the reason we’re here no longer exists. Stephanie proposes a trip to the secondhand store down the street, and even though Ben and Steve protest, nobody can think of anything better to do.

I am disappearing again, this time into silence. As Stephanie and Rebecca try things on and Steve looks through old records, Ben and I hover on the sidelines. He keeps checking his phone, but then, as Stephanie and Rebecca argue over who looks better in a fifties sundress, he says to me, “I know it probably doesn’t matter, but I’d bet good money that the guy who said he was Steve’s cousin had a reason for doing it. Guys act weird, sure. But it’s usually for a reason. And it’s rarely to be mean. It’s much more likely that he liked you.” Then he goes back to his phone and writes another text.

I go onto my own phone, wanting there to be an email from Nathan explaining everything. But there isn’t. So I write to him instead.

Nathan,

Apparently, Steve doesn’t have a cousin Nathan, and none of his cousins were at his party. Care to explain?

Rhiannon

Almost immediately, I get a reply.

Rhiannon,

I can, indeed, explain. Can we meet up? It’s the kind of explanation that needs to be done in person.