Violet just stood there gaping and thinking that she should deny what Chelsea was saying, but she wasn’t even sure where to start. She knew Jules would have done it. Where was Jules when she needed her?

“What about everyone else?” Andrew asked, still clinging to hope.

Chelsea shrugged and placed a sympathetic hand on Andrew’s arm. “Nope. No one else can make it either. Mike’s got family plans. Jules has a date. Claire has to study. And Violet here is grounded.” She draped her arm around Violet’s shoulder. “Right, Vi?”

Violet was saved from having to answer, since Andrew didn’t seem to need one. Apparently, if Chelsea said it, it was the gospel truth. But the pathetic look on his face made Violet want to hug him right then and there.

“Oh,” he finally said. And then, “Well, maybe next time.”

“Yeah. Sure. Of course,” Chelsea called over her shoulder, already dragging Violet away from the painful scene.

“Geez, Chels, break his heart, why don’t you? Why didn’t you just say you have some rare disease or something?” Violet made a face at her friend. “Not cool.”

Chelsea scoffed. “He’ll be fine. Besides, if I said ‘disease,’ he would have made me some chicken soup and offered to give me a sponge bath or something.” She wrinkled her nose. “Eww.”

The rest of the afternoon went pretty much the same way, with a few escalations: Family obligations. Big tests to study for. House arrests. Chelsea made excuses to nearly everyone who’d planned on going, including Claire. She was relentless.

By Saturday night, it was just the four of them . . . Violet, Jay, Chelsea, and, of course, Mike. It was everything Chelsea had dreamed of, everything she’d worked for.

They’d decided to drive together . . . in Jay’s car, obviously. When they stopped to pick up Mike, Violet started to get out so she could climb in back with Chelsea, giving Mike’s longer legs the front seat, but Jay reached out and caught her wrist.

“What are you doing? I want you to sit with me.” His fingers moved to lace through hers as he drew her back inside. “Mike can sit in back.”

Violet felt herself blush with satisfaction.

Mike came out of his house and jumped down the porch without ever touching the steps. Behind the darkened curtains, the television flickered.

“Here he comes!” Chelsea squealed, sounding like a little girl as she bounced up and down in the backseat, shaking the entire car. She clapped her hands with excitement.

Violet pulled her seat as far forward as she could to give Mike some extra room. He’d need it if he was going to be confined back there with Chelsea.

“Heeyyy, Mike.” Chelsea managed to drawl the two words into several long syllables as Mike slid into the car. The syrupiness of it sounded so foreign oozing from Chelsea’s mouth.

“Hey,” Mike said back to her. One word, one syllable.

“So I guess it’s just the four of us tonight,” she purred.

“Really? I thought we were meeting a buncha people.”

“Nope. Just us. Everyone else bailed.”

Violet smiled to herself as she listened to Chelsea’s account, amazed that her words came out sounding so . . . sincere.

But Violet knew better. And she realized from the look Jay flashed her that he knew too.

Mike, on the other hand, was too new to understand the disturbing way that Chelsea’s mind worked. There was a brief pause, and then Violet swore she could hear a smile in his voice when he answered, “That’s cool.”

He might rethink that later, Violet thought, when Chelsea stops holding back and decides to assault him right in the middle of a crowded movie theater. Unless he’s into that kind of thing. She grinned wickedly to herself.

And then she wondered if Jay would attack her.

She hoped so.

Chapter 11

The real show of the night happened when they stopped at Java Hut to kill some time before the movie.

Java Hut had first opened its doors as an internet café before there was a computer in every home. But as the concept became obsolete, Java Hut managed to stay open by becoming the perfect after-school and weekend hangout. Now, instead of just coffee, they served burgers and fries and ice cream, and along with the computers, there were also gaming stations. And that night, like most Saturday nights, it was busy and loud.

When they walked through the front door, Violet wondered if she’d ever get used to the attention Jay drew whenever they were out. Girls—of all ages—seemed to be drawn to him, and Violet thought she understood why. There was something about his utter lack of awareness of his charm that was universally appealing.

And women seemed compelled to abandon all good sense just to garner a moment of his notice, even if it was purely utilitarian.

Waitresses fawned over him. Cashiers lingered with his change, drawing out that moment when their hands would brush. And even the female teachers were inclined to give him a little leeway . . . giving him extra time to turn in assignments and neglecting to hand out a tardy slip when he was late.

Jay was oblivious to it, even when Violet pointed out the obvious. He thought they were just “being friendly” or “doing their jobs.” But Violet never got free dessert or an open hall pass to roam the school during class time.

So it wasn’t a total surprise that Jay would turn a few heads while they were out tonight. She just hadn’t anticipated the power of the two of them together. Two good-looking guys more than doubled the attention they drew. Even among people they knew at the Java Hut that night, Violet and Chelsea became instantly invisible.