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she’d cut loose like this in a burger joint was at the mall not far from her house. It was the week before prom and Kyle had dragged her away from her chemistry textbook for exactly forty-five minutes. Somethingabout the memory of his blue eyes staring at her over the chocolate malt they’d shared after their meal sent a wave of—what was it? Nostalgia? Pity?—over her. She couldn’t decide if she missed Kyle, or if she just missed sharing a moment like this with someone who was more than a friend.
    Her thumb hovered over the new message with Kyle’s name in her in-box. Should she see what it said? Part of her was curious. The other part knew it was just him asking her to go out with him again. Did she want that? He kept messaging her saying that he had changed. But how much could one person change in one month? And even if Kyle had changed, was he the guy for her? Emily remembered the relief of finally making the decision to end things. She’d hardly looked back. Kyle wasn’t a bad guy. He just wasn’t her guy.
    â€œEarth to Emily. Come in, Emily. Over.” Brandon’s voice broke into her thoughts, and she looked up to see both him and Ana staring at her.
    Emily felt her cheeks flush. “What?”
    â€œWhat’s up with your phone?” Ana asked. “How can you be more interested in whatever is happening there than what is happening with these sweet-potato fries?” Emily laughed as Ana shoved aside her picked-over tuna salad plate and replaced it with the basket of golden-orange fries. She crammed four into her mouth after swiping them through the ranch dressing.
    â€œSorry,” Emily said. She clicked the button and her phone screen went dark, then she dropped it back into her purse. “Hey, Brandon?”
    â€œYeah?” Brandon asked around a final ginormous bite of cheeseburger.
    â€œDo you know . . .” Emily’s voice trailed off. She didn’t even want to put the question into words.
    â€œDo I know what?” Brandon asked. He was now making short work of the grilled cheese that was left.
    â€œOh . . . nothing.” Emily took a sip of her Coke and popped an onion ring into her mouth.
    â€œJesus. Why do girls always do that?” Brandon asked.
    â€œUm, girls don’t always do anything , thank you very much.” Ana actually snapped her finger when she said this. “We are all individual creations of grace, beauty, and kick-ass-ness.”
    â€œKick-ass-ness?” Brandon asked.
    Ana nodded. “You heard me.”
    â€œYeah. I also heard your friend with the blond hair and the onion-ring addiction just start to ask a question and not finish it.” Brandon’s eyes narrowed as he munched a couple of fries drenched in so much ketchup that they looked more like a glob of red than deep-fried potatoes.
    â€œIt was nothing,” she said. “I . . . forgot what I was going to say.”
    â€œUh-huh.” Brandon wasn’t buying it. “You know who I’ve never ever in my life heard start a question and then say ‘Oh . . . nothing’, Ana? A dude. That’s who. Never once. And I know a lotta dudes.”
    Ana stuck out her tongue, which made Emily giggle and Brandon roll his eyes. “No thanks,” he said. “I don’t French long distance.”
    Ana groaned and threw a napkin at him. “You’re such a pig. Spill it Emily. What were you going to ask him?”
    Emily turned to look at her friend. This was so stupid. “I was just . . .”
    â€œSpit it out,” Brandon said, “or I’m gonna tell our waitress to eighty-six your Strawberry Tsunami.”
    Emily sighed. “Fine! Fine. I was going to ask you if Kyle was coming to the party.”
    Ana groaned. “Why would you care?”
    â€œI know, I know. I shouldn’t. It’s just . . . well . . . he just e-mailed me,