“Sherlock brought me.”
Her eyebrows rise. “Wow, really?”
“It’s not a date or anything,” I say quickly.
Her eyebrows don’t drop at all. She looks over my outfit. “You sure? You’re definitely dressed for a date.”
I shake my head. “Definitely not a date.”
“Well, if you deny it twice in the span of four seconds, it must be true,” she says lightly.
My face flushes. I glance over at Wally, seeking a distraction. “So, how’s everything with you?” I look back at Sara. “Are you and Wally talking more, or…?”
“Yeah,” she says, her tone almost too pitchy to be believed. “We actually came together tonight. He gave me a ride.”
“Oh, wow. That’s cool.”
She offers a tempered smile. “Yeah.”
“So… have you guys been hanging out?”
“Yeah.”
I nod, waiting for her to go on. I know my friend has it in her to be boy crazy, especially where this particular boy is concerned, so I wait for her to expand.
When she doesn’t, my concern deepens. “You don’t seem as excited about that as I thought you would be.”
“It’s exciting,” she says defensively. “It’s just… it’s complicated, you know?”
“Not really.” I attempt a smile. “You haven’t been talking to me about it. Or anything else, really.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“I get that.” I frown, hearing a hint of defensiveness in my own tone. “I’ve been busy, too.”
“Great,” she says, a tad shortly. “We’ve both been busy, so that’s why we haven’t talked about it.”
My frown deepens, and my concern with it. “Is everything okay, Sara?”
“Everything is fine,” she snaps. “God, stop asking.”
Folding my arms across my chest, I shoot her a look. “Clearly. Why would I have thought everything wasn’t fine when you’re acting so chill? Is it Wally? You’re watching him talk to that girl pretty hard.”
Her gaze snaps to me. “I am not keeping an eye on him.”
“I… didn’t say you were.”
“He’s not mine to keep an eye on. Yeah, we’ve spent some time together, but we’re keeping things casual right now. We haven’t labeled it, you know?”
She’s wound so tightly, I’m not sure where is safe to step. “And… you’re okay with that arrangement?”
“I have to be okay with that arrangement,” she says, a hint of misery coming through as she looks back over at him. “That’s what he wants. Right now,” she adds, more for herself than me.
“Sara,” I say, as gently as possible. “If you want different things, maybe—”
“Don’t,” she says, shaking her head and not looking at me. “Don’t ruin this for me.”
My heart sinks. “I’m not trying to ruin anything for you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Finally, her gaze returns to mine, but there’s something mean there I don’t like at all. “Look, we can’t all have Instagram models obsessed with us even when we push them away, okay? Some of us have to wait it out and see where things go. We have to wait to see if a guy actually even likes us. I wouldn’t expect you to know anything about that.”
I inhale sharply, her words slicing through me like serrated blades.
Guilt flashes across her face almost immediately, but it doesn’t make her words sting any less.
“Whoa. Am I interrupting something?”
I look back at Sherlock, standing there with two red Solo cups.
“No. We’re done here,” I tell him, eager to flee. I walk away without another word.
Sherlock is right on my heels. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Isn’t she your friend?” he asks, glancing back at Sara.
“Yeah, she’s supposed to be,” I mutter.
“Huh. Could’ve fooled me.”
“She’s just upset because Wally is an asshole,” I state, slowing to a stop. “She’s taking it out on me. Whatever. I just… I really want to leave. Can we get out of here?”
Sherlock sighs, looking around. “I really wanted you to talk to Hunter first. Coming here was a complete waste of time if you don’t.” After a couple of seconds, he hands me one of the Solo cups. “Here. Why don’t we have one drink, do a lap, see if we can find him?”
“I don’t feel like socializing with anyone else,” I say, taking the cup and regarding it with open skepticism. “And my mom told me not to take open drinks from strange guys.”
“No roofies, I promise.” He holds his cup out. “We can switch, if you want.”
I narrow my eyes at him, the crazy coming out as I tell him, “Maybe you expected me to say that and roofied yourself so that when I insisted we switch cups, I would end up with the roofies.”
“Maybe you’ve seen The Princess Bride a time too many.”
“Inconceivable!”
Sherlock smiles. “Come on. We’ll head upstairs, fewer people up there. It’s quieter. Maybe Hunter’s up there. Sometimes he gets these parties going and then disappears.”
I tense when he says that. “Alone?”
“As far as I know.”
I don’t like those odds. If we find him and he’s hooking up with some other girl, I’ll die.