“What did you do today?” he asked.

Kay’s gut lurched, and she was sure her father would see the lie written on her face. “I just went hiking, out by the Bluebell trailhead.” Exactly the opposite direction from where she’d been, and she could feel the depth of the lie.

“See anything interesting?”

Kay’s heart skipped a beat. But she managed to keep her voice steady when she answered, “No. Nothing at all.”

Nothing happened. No one found out. That didn’t stop her from flinching every time someone talked to her.

“Hey, Kay. I said hello like three times.”

Startled from her thoughts, Kay looked up to find Tam sliding into the seat across from her, lunch bag in hand. Kay’s own sandwich lay uneaten before her. She’d been staring at it while her mind turned.

“Oh, sorry.” Kay forced a smile.

“So, you talk to Jon yet?”

She winced, and Tam looked disapproving. Tam looked about ten years older than Kay felt most of the time: She wore makeup and did it perfectly, her silky black hair always hung gracefully around her shoulders, and even wearing a T-shirt and jeans, she looked like she ought to be on the cover of a magazine. She made the outfit look sexy instead of just thrown together, which was how Kay felt. Kay’s skimpy brown hair never seemed to stay in its ponytail; she was always pushing strands back behind her ears. Maybe she liked being outdoors so much because it didn’t seem to matter if you were sweaty, grungy, and not perfect looking.

“I’ll give you a hint. Say yes,” Tam said.

“I’m just not sure I want to go to homecoming at all.”

They’d had variations of this conversation a dozen times, and Tam always got that frustrated, motherly expression when Kay seemed to be dragging her feet.

“Come on, you know you’ll have fun once you get there. Besides, I won’t have any fun if you don’t go.”

Kay had to smile. Tam’s enthusiasm was more than enough to pull her along, if she’d just let it. That was how it had worked since middle school—Kay made Tam go hiking, and Tam made Kay go to the mall or to the Alpine Diner to hang out, or to any of the other things that Kay wouldn’t have done on her own. They lent each other confidence, and it had worked. Until Tam started dating Carson. Tam wanted Kay to have a boyfriend, too, and wouldn’t listen when Kay said she wasn’t sure she wanted one.

“Quiet. Here they come.”

Kay craned her head around to the cafeteria doorway to see Jon and Carson approach. Kay still didn’t know what to tell Jon. She tried to act normal, tried not to blush, and went back to staring at her sandwich when Jon took the seat next to her.

Carson—tall, lanky, with unruly blond hair and a handsome smile—sat next to Tam, and the two started making out. Carson put his arm around Tam’s shoulders, she leaned in, and their lips were together. They didn’t seem to need to come up for air. They’d been going out for six months now. Tam loved having a boyfriend. She thought everyone should have a boyfriend.

Kay and Jon squirmed and didn’t look at each other.

When the couple finally broke apart, Tam was giggling. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shining. Carson looked at her with this proud, possessive expression on his face. They both seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Maybe I should just say yes, Kay thought.

“I can’t wait until you guys get written up for that,” Jon said.

“It’ll be worth it,” Carson said, grinning. The couple only had eyes for each other. Kay and Jon may as well have been alone.

Tam would have argued that Carson was cuter than Jon, but Kay thought Jon was more natural—more honest. He was fit and tanned from all his time outdoors, and when he listened to Kay, she was sure he was really listening. They had conversations.

At least, they didn’t used to have any trouble talking. Now they avoided making eye contact, and avoided looking at Tam and Carson. There wasn’t much else to look at.

Jon shook out of the funk first, focusing on her and donning a bright tone to his solid tenor voice. “How’ve you been?” he asked.

“Okay,” she said. “You?”

He shrugged. “Okay. I tried calling you yesterday.”

“I got your message. Sorry about that. I went climbing and was gone most of the day.”

“Oh? Where’d you go?”

She wasn’t going to be able to keep this secret if she couldn’t come up with a good answer to that question. What had she told her dad? “Out by Bluebell. Mostly bouldering. Just messing around.”

“By yourself? You should have called me. I’m always up for climbing.”

In fact, they’d learned to climb together, back when they both ended up in a climbing safety class her dad taught at the rec center. She’d known Jon from school, but climbing gave them something in common. They discovered they had the same passion for it. He was right, she was chagrined to realize. She should have called him. Except that she’d wanted to be alone.

She didn’t want to tell him he was exactly the reason she’d wanted to be by herself. “Yeah, I know. Next time.”

That turned the conversation to other topics, like school and parents and next year’s college applications. Tam and Carson sat hip to hip, body to body, on the bench at the cafeteria table, on the verge of kissing again, Kay was sure.

Kay finally ate, managing to finish before the bell rang, and they all had to slink back to class.

Jon touched her arm and pulled her aside before they entered the hallway to the classrooms.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Her stomach knotted, because she knew what he was going to ask. “Just a minute, I guess. I don’t want to be late.” She bit her lip.

“I’ll try not to make you late. Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.” He smiled a goofy smile.

This was the problem with all this relationship stuff, this boyfriend-girlfriend thing. Why couldn’t they just come out and talk about it? They could talk about everything else. When it came to this, he got all tongue-tied. They both did.

“You thought any more about it? The dance, I mean,” he said.

She couldn’t figure out what to say to one of her best friends in the world. She licked her lips and blurted out the question. “Why? I mean, why me?”

He looked at her sharply, a disbelieving expression. She flushed, her cheeks burning, because she felt like she’d missed something. Like this whole business was obvious to everyone but her.

“You’re my best friend. Why would I want to go with anyone else?”

“You don’t go to dances with your best friend. Do you? You go with someone who’s pretty or…or…”

“Who puts out?” he said, and she blushed again. “I don’t understand why you’re so down on yourself.”

She took a breath and looked at him square on, meeting his gaze at last. He had green eyes, a tight smile.

“This is just really weird. I’ve known you since the fifth grade, and it’s not that I don’t want to go, or I’d just come out and say it, really I would. But I don’t know. I really don’t know what I want. Sometimes I think you’re just asking me because we’re supposed to have dates for the dance, and I’m the most available girl you know—”

He held his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Hey, I didn’t mean to freak you out or anything. You don’t have to say anything. The dance is still a month away.”

She smiled gratefully and felt better, because he sounded like he meant it. No pressure. This probably wasn’t the big deal she was making it out to be.

She sighed. “I’ve just seen what happens when people break up, and they hate each other. I don’t think I could stand it if that happened to us.”

“I just want to go to the dance with my friend.”

That made it sound so simple. That’s all it was, then. Going to the dance with her friend.

“Okay,” she said.