We all looked at him, confused. Hammond had never scolded anyone for anything, especially not sex talk.

“What?” he said, pausing. “There are parents all over the place. Get a life.”

He moved off to join Chloe and her family near the huge Christmas tree at the head of the table, where a professional photographer was going to snap a family photo. Keeping one eye on Ally, who was slowly making her way along the opposite side of the table, I glanced at the place cards. Mrs. Appleby liked to mix kids and adults. She put everyone near people they wouldn’t ever talk to, like her parties were some kind of experiment.

Who was I going to spend the night making tortured small talk with?

Finally I spotted my name. I was between Mrs. Moore and Mr. Shale. Great. Mrs. Depressed and Mr. Loud. I glanced around and saw Ally’s name on the next card. Instant excitement. I looked over my shoulder at Mrs. Appleby, made sure no one else was watching, then quickly switched Ally’s card with Mr. Shale’s. Then I shoved my shaking hands into my pockets. I had just broken a major Crestie rule. No one messed with Mrs. Appleby’s order of things.

“If everyone would please take their seats!” Mrs. Appleby announced, ringing her obnoxious little dinner bell.

I sat, watching out of the corner of my eye as Ally came around the end of the table, still searching for her place. When she found it, she looked at me and blushed. As she slipped into her seat, her arm grazed mine. She was wearing this dark purple blouse with a wide neck that exposed her collar bone. All I wanted to do was kiss that collar bone. Trevor was right. She did look hot.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey.”

I felt like every inch of my skin was on fire.

“A toast,” Chloe’s mother announced. She lifted her champagne glass, and we all followed. Even the eighth graders at the table had champagne. Cristal was not considered alcohol on the crest. “To a happy holiday season!” Mrs. Appleby announced. “And to us!”

“To us!” everyone chorused. We always toasted us. Just to remind ourselves that there were people out there who weren’t part of us.

“Having fun?” I asked as a waiter in a tuxedo placed a dish of risotto in front of me. My stomach grumbled. There was always one good thing about Sunday dinners: The food kicked ass. Everyone started to eat, and the room got loud.

“Oh, so much,” Ally answered sarcastically. “You?”

“Totally.” I chewed and swallowed. “So. Where’s your boyfriend tonight?”

Her cheeks turned crimson.

“He has a gig.”

“A gig?” I laughed. “He’s in a band?”

“Yeah. And they’re pretty good, actually. Why do you care?”

“I don’t. Just making small talk,” I said with a smile.

She smiled back. This was going well.

“So, I’m thinking . . . after this we should go somewhere,” I whispered.

She ducked her head. The blush deepened. “Go somewhere?”

“Yeah. You and me.”

“Are you forgetting about the previously mentioned boyfriend?” she asked.

I grinned. “No. What does he have to do with anything? All I want to do is talk.”

She scoffed and tore off a piece of her roll. “Yeah, right.”

I sat back, faking offense. So innocent. “Why? What do you think I want to do?”

She looked at me and rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”

“No, really. Tell me. Is there something you want to do other than talk?”

Ally shoved a huge piece of bread in her mouth. I’d been right about one thing. Sunday dinners were way more fun with her there. I took another bite of my risotto and looked across the table for the first time. Shannen was glaring right at me as if I’d just stomped on her foot.

Crap. I glanced quickly away.

“So, Gray, how are things at the hospital?” Mrs. Kirkpatrick asked.

“They’re fantastic, actually,” Dr. Nathanson replied. “We’ve just been given the go-ahead on the new cancer wing.”

“That’s fabulous news!” Mrs. Appleby remarked. “I’m so glad my little fund-raiser this fall was a success.”

“It certainly was,” Dr. Nathanson replied, tipping his glass toward her. “Thank you again for sponsoring it. And thank you for inviting us tonight. It’s an honor.”

“It’s our honor to have you,” Mrs. Appleby replied. “And I’m so glad you brought along our old friend.” She smiled at Ally’s mother. “I would have invited you myself, Melanie, but I wasn’t sure you’d be interested.”

I felt Ally tense up next to me, but her mother beamed. “Oh, please, Clarice. Of course I’m interested. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you girls.”

She grinned at Mrs. Moore, who gave her what I thought was an encouraging look, and at Faith and Hammond’s moms, too. My mother looked kind of pale as she touched her napkin to her mouth and cleared her throat.

“Yes, Melanie, they’ve missed you, too,” she said. “I can’t tell you how often they talk about you. It’s always Melanie this and Melanie that.”

Ally’s mom seriously looked as if she was going to shit with happiness.

“It’s true,” Mrs. Kirkpatrick said. “We’ve especially missed your seven-layer chocolate cake.”

Ally smiled as her mom beamed. “That was always a crowdpleaser,” Mrs. Ryan said.

“Very much so,” Mrs. Appleby said. “You should think about making this a weekly thing again.”

My skin tingled. Ally at every Sunday dinner? That would be the greatest thing ever. And if she were here every week, my friends would have to get used to her again. And then, who knew?

“Clarice, I would love that,” Mrs. Ryan said happily.

“Good.” Then Mrs. Appleby sat back in her chair, and something in her eyes shifted. “In fact, perhaps you should host next month.”

Ally’s smile faded.

“Oh, what a fabulous idea!” my mother trilled, catching on to the joke. “But don’t you live in the Orchard View? Would you even be able to squeeze us all into that tiny place?”

Ally’s mother went ashen. I wanted to launch myself over the table and wring my mom’s neck. How could she say that? What the hell did she have against Ally’s mother? They didn’t even know each other. Suddenly she seemed no better to me than Faith and Shannen when they were shredding Ally for no reason. Just for fun. Just to win each other’s approving laughs. I hated her in that moment. Her and all her fakeness.

“Ladies,” Shannen’s mother scolded. Across the way, Shannen’s dad let out a loud burp.

“Excuse me,” he said loudly.

“Nonsense, Brendan,” Mrs. Appleby said, barely stifling a laugh. “It’s the highest form of flattery.”

A few people laughed under their breath. There was a long silence as Mrs. Moore blushed purple. Ally’s mother leaned behind Todd’s back to whisper something to Dr. Nathanson. He nodded and pushed his chair away from the table.

“Thank you for having us, Clarice, but I think we should be going,” he said, standing.

“Oh, Gray, please,” Mrs. Appleby said, standing as well. “Is that really necessary?”

“Yes, I believe it is,” he replied.

Good for him.

He took Ally’s mother’s hand as she got up as well. She turned away from the table, her head down.

“Ally? Quinn?” Dr. Nathanson said.

Quinn’s face was on fire. She looked like she was about to cry, probably out of embarrassment, but she got up. Ally didn’t move. I looked at her. The mortification was written all over her face. So blatant I felt it in my gut. Suddenly I didn’t care about Shannen’s glare or the fact that Chloe and Hammond and Faith were watching. Or my parents. I leaned toward her ear.

“Don’t listen to them,” I said. “They’re just a bunch of sad old bitches with nothing better to do.”

Ally looked at me, her eyes shining. I wanted to kill every person in the room who’d ever made her feel bad. But then she pressed her lips together and shoved herself up from the table. As she followed her mom toward the door, the room was dead silent.

“Thanks for coming,” Faith said sarcastically under her breath. Some of the kids giggled. Chloe shot her a scornful look, but Faith just rolled her eyes.