spins back across the table, landing in Ava’s lap.
“Ouch!” Ava says, even though the flying carrot definitely didn’t hurt.
“Hey, Danielle,” a voice calls out from behind me. Chase is making his way over to our table, a backpack slung low over his shoulder. “Hey, guys.” He nods to us. “Dani, can I talk to you?” He rests a hand on her shoulder but withdraws it quickly when she turns to look at him, her gaze icy.
“She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Ava says in a clipped tone.
“Ava,” Danielle hisses. “Seriously. We’re not in seventh grade anymore. I can speak for myself.”
“Fine,” Ava says, standing up. “I was just trying to help.” She grabs her food and walks to the busing counter, slamming down the tray just a little too hard.
Whenever Danielle and Ava fight like this, Ava usually storms off and spends the next few hours with her theater friends, who she ironically likes to say are “less drama.” But I know she’ll probably be back with Danielle by the end of the day.
“I’ll talk to her,” Hannah says. She gets up and follows Ava out of the cafeteria.
“Sorry about that.” Danielle turns to Chase. “What’s up? Do you want to sit down?”
Chase rearranges the dirty Red Sox cap on his head, putting it back slightly askew. “Well, actually, do you want to go for a walk or something? I kind of wanted to talk.”
“We can talk here.” Danielle motions toward Andrew and me. “They’re harmless.”
“We can go.” Andrew starts to get up from his chair. “You guys can ha—”
“Don’t be silly.” Danielle reaches a hand out to touch his shoulder. Her voice is sweet, but her back is straight, her movements stiff. It strikes me that she knows what’s coming. Her armor is on, laced up tight. Does she want us here for moral support? It feels wrong—Danielle needing anyone’s help for anything.
Chase slumps into the chair next to her.
“Okay.” He seems caught off guard at having an audience. “So this weekend was really fun.” He looks at Andrew for a second. “Nice party, dude.” Andrew nods that special guy-nod back. “It’s just—” he begins again, but Danielle interrupts.
“Here’s the thing. I don’t think you really understand what this weekend was for me. I just don’t like you like that, Chase. No hard feelings.”
“That’s not what I—” he tries to butt in, but she keeps talking.
“I just kind of want to explore other options, and I really don’t want to be locked down with one guy. It’s not a good time. We can be friends though, right?” She pats his hand and looks at him, her eyes big.
Chase darts a quick glance at Andrew, as if he’s trying to figure out what to say, as if he needs help. “What the hell, Danielle?” This is probably the first time a girl has ever spoken to him like this—Chase Brosner, star of the basketball team, the hockey team, and the lacrosse team. He’s been everyone’s crush since sixth grade.
“What?” Danielle asks, bringing a hand up to examine her cuticles.
“You’re being crazy.”
“I’m not being crazy,” she says. “I’m just saying something you don’t like.”
“Fine,” he says, his tone sharp. “We can be friends. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Good, I’m so glad you understand.”
“Cool.” He shakes his head and pulls his backpack up over his shoulder, and then lumbers out of the cafeteria. When he’s out of sight, her gaze hardens. Andrew turns to Danielle, looking at her like she’s a puzzle he’s trying to solve.
“But I thought you liked him.”
“He was clearly about to screw me over, and I’m not going to let him get away with that twice. So I did it first.”
“You couldn’t have done that in private?” I ask.
“I needed witnesses,” she says. “Now he can’t make up a story. I dropped him and you both saw it.” She takes another bite of salad and sighs. “I win.”
SIX
HANNAH AND I meet in the student parking lot after school. She’s agreed to take me