Page 48 of The Summer List

I sit up straight on the bed. “What post?”

“I, uh, did the dance challenge thing already with someone I know from my music classes.”

I know I’m being ridiculous, but that doesn’t stop the blood from rushing in my ears as I answer, “Oh. I see.”

“It’s just, we said we didn’t have to do everything on the list together, and I figured a dance challenge is a good way to solidify a new friendship. It’s just like you said: a bucket list two-for-one. Right?”

I wrap an arm around my stomach. “Right.”

When she speaks again, there’s a forced brightness in her voice. “But you, Shal, and Andrea should do it with whoever you want. I’m sure yours will be great! I can’t wait to see it.”

I sound like a robot when I answer, “Right. Yeah. That sounds good.”

Another moment of silence passes before she tells me she has to go to a clarinet lesson. We say our goodbyes, and I lower my phone to stare down at the blank screen in my lap.

She has a new friend—a friend I haven’t heard anything about even though she’s clearly already close enough with them to be doing dance challenges.

I try to do what my therapist would suggest and put a name to the feeling that’s making the back of my neck break out in a sweat, but my self-awareness isn’t cooperating. Instead, I unlock my phone and pull up Priya’s profile, where I find the post she was talking about.

It was uploaded three days ago. I’ve been freaking out about Andrea too much to pay much attention to social media the past couple days, but it’s still weird Priya didn’t say anything about completing a new list item.

The bottom of my stomach drops when the video loads and I see Priya and her new friend doing some kind of Macarena-esque routine to the latest pop hit in what looks like an empty music room.

Her new friend is a guy.

I might be a lesbian, but even I can tell he’s obnoxiously cute for a man, and I know my best friend well enough to realize she’s into him after just a few seconds of watching them laugh together on the tiny screen.

At least, I thought I knew her that well, but as I click the video off, I realize I called her less than twenty-four hours after figuring out I have feelings for Andrea, and she hasn’t said a word about this guy to me.

I decide if I had to name the feeling that’s perched on my chest like a boulder, I wouldn’t call it jealousy, or betrayal, or even anger.

I’m not angry.

I’m afraid.

CHAPTER 13

Andrea

Ican still remember sitting in awkward silence for hours while my parents traded death glares with each other in the years before their divorce, but I don’t think I’ve ever sensed as much friction in a room as I do watching Naomi and Priya avoid each other’s eyes tonight.

You’d need way more than a knife to cut through the tension hanging in the air. Whatever is going on between them feels like it might need more of a sledgehammer situation to smash it apart. The two of them barely spoke at all over dinner, leaving Shal and I to carry the conversation as we all ate way too much of the food their mom sent over with them.

At least, I ate way too much. It wouldn’t surprise me if this best friend feud kept Priya and Naomi from eating more than a few bites.

“Should we watch a movie or something?” I ask from where I’m sitting cross-legged in an armchair in the living room.

Priya and Naomi are sharing a couch, but they’re both huddled up against the arms at either end.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” Naomi says, darting a glance at Priya when she grunts in agreement before dropping her gaze back to the floor.

I hung back in the kitchen after our meal to ask Shal if she knows what the hell is up with them, but she said my guess is as good as hers before disappearing to the basement to call some guy who seems to be her half-hearted attempt at a summer fling.

I get up and hunt around for the remote and then turn on the huge flat screen hanging above the fireplace. I scroll through the top picks on a few different streaming services—my dad and Sandy seem to be subscribed to all of them—but I just get a few nods and vague mumbles in response to the titles I read out.

“Speak now, or I will seriously press play on the fourth Shrek movie, which seems to be trending for some godforsaken reason.”

I slash the remote through the air to indicate how serious I am, but Naomi just lets out a soft, distracted chuckle while Priya shrugs and says, “I won’t stop you.”

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