The lights dimmed and the flat screen at the front of the room flickered to life with an image of Mrs. Goldberg, the Student Council moderator, reading the morning announcements.

“I thought you were coming over yesterday,” Bianca whispered over her shoulder.

“Yeah, but you texted and said Tim was on his way.”

“To hang out with my brother. I—” She glanced forward for a second and shook her head. “Later.”

I nodded. A slight vibration tickled my leg, so I reached into my skirt pocket and grabbed my phone.

Where were U? the text from Ally read.

I glanced up at her, but her attention was focused on Mrs. Goldberg babbling something about next month’s Sweetheart’s Dance.

Overslept, I tapped onto the screen. I hit Send the same time Mr. Jorgensen cleared his throat and called my name.

“Miss Nicoletti, while you clearly have no regard for punctuality or the school dress code, I do ask that you at least abide by the classroom rules and put your phone away.”

I blinked. This was the first time he had publicly called me out for any infraction. And of all the rules I’d already broken that morning, using my phone seemed really trivial. The entire class was silent, as if they were waiting to see what I would do next.

If I hadn’t been taken by surprise, I might have retorted by telling him where he could shove the classroom rules, but as that would’ve landed me a well-earned trip to the principal’s office, it was probably best I kept my composure. I dropped my phone into my backpack. “Yes, sir.”

Mr. Jorgensen nodded once before he turned back to watch the announcements. Most of the class followed suit, and, aside from a few furtive glances from a couple of girls in the front, the incident seemed forgotten.

Ally shifted in her seat to look back at me. “Sorry,” she mouthed.

I tilted my head to acknowledge her apology, but inside, I was seething.

“What do you think is up with Jorgensen today?” Ally said after homeroom as we walked to our English class. “He was totally harsh.”

“Maybe he switched to decaf over break.” I raised a shoulder in a half-shrug. “Who knows?”

“Did you seriously oversleep?” she asked, her green eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Did Jake not text you?”

“No, he did, but I must’ve slept through it.”

“Maybe you learned to text him back in your sleep.”

I grinned. “Maybe. Though that could be bad.” Jake and I both got cell phones in the fifth grade, and for the longest time we were the only people we knew with phones. It started as a joke, but since middle school, Jake had texted me every morning to wake me up and didn’t stop until I’d responded.

“So Bianca said you flaked on her yesterday,” she said as we narrowly avoided crashing into a group of freshmen boys chasing each other down the hall.

“Uh, no,” I said, annoyed. “She told me Tim was coming over, and it sounded like they’d be hanging out. So I went to Jake’s.” I hitched up my backpack to keep it from sliding off my shoulder. “Do you know Clover Davies?”

It was a silly question, and I knew it. Ally Katz knew just about everyone in Playa del Lago, whether or not they went to Westgate Prep. She was the ultimate socialite: polished, connected, and well informed. Her blog was the gossip hub and standard reading for the entire school, and she almost always knew about pop quizzes before anyone else did. Very few things happened at Westgate without her knowledge.

“Of course,” she said in a way that made me feel even more ridiculous for asking. “But only of her. I’ve met her dad. He’s got this gorgeous ’63 Corvette Stingray coupe with the split rear window.” She sighed wistfully. “It’s amazing.”

I suppressed a laugh. That was the other thing about Ally. Her oldest brother owned a local garage that specialized in classic cars, so she knew what everyone drove, especially if the cars cost some serious coin. And since she grew up building hot rods with her dad and brothers, she was more knowledgeable about cars than most people. Period.

“Plus, she’s practically rock royalty. I mean, her dad knows everyone.” Ally twirled a golden spiral around her finger and released it, letting the lock of hair fall into a springy coil.

“Yeah, I know,” I said as we approached our class. “I saw her a lot over winter break. I guess she and Jake are pretty tight.”

“Was she at his house yesterday?”

I nodded and opened the door. “She seems okay.”

“But?”

“I don’t know.” I couldn’t shake the weird feeling in my gut from the previous day, but I knew better than to confide any of that to Ally.

We settled in our seats, and she leaned over. “Do you want me to find out what’s going on?”

“With what?”

She rolled her eyes. “With Jake and Clover. Duh.”

I was incredulous. “What? No. He’d—” I stopped myself. Jake would what? Tell me if he had a girlfriend? I wasn’t so sure. More to the point, I wasn’t sure I’d care if he did. Or why I should. “Just ‘no,’” I said. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Are you jealous?” she said with a broad grin.

“Get over yourself.”

“Hmm.” She sat back in her chair with a smug smile on her lips.

“Whatevs,” I said with a snort. “I don’t know why I talk to you about anything.”

“Because that’s what friends do.”

I sent up a silent prayer for something more exciting to happen that day, anything Ally would consider bloggable material. The last thing I wanted was some ridiculous rumor to start flying around about a triangle involving Jake, Clover, and me.

Chapter Three

“So you and Tim didn’t hang out yesterday?” I said to Bianca as we walked to our European history class together. “Your text said he was coming over.”

“And he did,” she replied, “to pick up Brady so they could go look for car parts or whatever. He knew I’d made plans with you.”

I frowned, feeling a little guilty. “Sorry. I thought you were ditching me.”

“Trust me, I’d much rather hang out with you than go with them to that creepy junkyard.” She shuddered. “But anyway, I ended up cleaning my room, so that made my mom happy.”

Jake was in class when we arrived. I was surprised to see him there already; he usually met me outside my geometry class so we could walk together. I’d figured he’d been asked to stick around after Spanish or something. But he was in his seat at the back of the room, a sullen look on his face.

“What’s up with Jake?” Bianca asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

She pursed her lips. “I’m sure he’ll tell us at lunch.”

I was skeptical. Jake shared a lot of stuff with me that he otherwise kept hidden from the rest of our friends, but I said, “Maybe.”

“Is your mom still going to that conference?”

“What?” The sudden change in topic startled me. “Oh, yeah,” I said with a quick nod, “in Vegas. And get this: Dr. Griffin’s going with her.”

“Really? That’s kind of crazy,” she said, heading for her seat.

I put my backpack beside my desk before I headed toward Jake and kicked his shoe. “Hey.”

He looked up and gave me a weak smile. “Hey, yourself. I heard you sent Jorgensen off the edge this morning, and he almost took your phone away.” I scrunched up my nose and made a sour face, and he chuckled.

“It’s totally stupid,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “I don’t know why anyone’s even talking about it.”

“Because you’re the girl who gets away with it all.” He pushed his hair out of his face. “Don’t worry. By the end of the day, I’m sure the word’ll be that he confiscated it and gave you a month’s detention, too.”

I snorted. Stories had ways of turning into larger-than-life events as they circulated the Westgate breezeways. That was another reason Ally’s blog was so well read. She was a trusted source.