“What the hell was that?” Shannen shoved me away from her with both hands. “You don’t get to throw me around!”

“What were you doing in there, Shannen?” I demanded. “You can’t just ambush somebody like that.”

“Why not? He ambushed us when he stole all our money!”

“He’s right, Shannen,” Hammond said, joining us. “That was not cool.”

Shannen rolled her eyes. “Of course you guys would defend Ally’s dad.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Hammond blurted.

“Are you forgetting what that guy did to us?” Shannen said, ignoring his question. “So what if seeing us made him feel bad for five minutes? I feel bad every fucking day of my life thanks to him!”

“She’s right. He deserves it,” Faith put in, shoving her hands into the pockets of her white coat. Her nose was all red and her eyes watery, but I couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or because she was upset. “I can’t even believe Chloe’s dad would give him a job.”

“Not to mention a place to stay,” Shannen said, looking up at the apartments over the deli. Another stiff wind nearly blew us all off our feet. “What a traitor.”

“He’s not a traitor,” Hammond spat, turning up the collar of his coat again. “He saw a friend in trouble and helped him out. Any one of us would do the same for you.”

“Yeah, Shannen,” I said. “You of all people know that it’s not all black and white when it comes to friends.”

Her eyes flashed, and she glared at me. We both knew I was walking a fine line, talking about the Hammond/Chloe/Ally situation right in front of the others. But I was right. I knew I was.

“What I don’t get is, why tonight?” Hammond asked. “Chloe spilled back before Christmas. Why the sudden motivation to come find him?”

Shannen shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Something happened after the game last night that inspired me,” she said, looking me right in the eye.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked. Was she doing this because she thought I liked Ally? Trying to remind me that the Norm wasn’t worthy because her dad worked in a deli? How shallow did she think I was?

“Whatever. I’m over this conversation,” Shannen said. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

She turned around and grabbed Faith’s hand, speed walking down the street. Hammond and I looked at one another, sighed, and followed. All I could think about for the rest of the night was the look on Mr. Ryan’s face when he’d seen Faith. He looked scared. Like he was watching his life pass before his eyes. I knew the feeling. I’d seen Ally’s dad. I knew right where he was. Where he worked, where he lived.

The question was, what the hell was I going to do about it?

march

Okay. Ally Ryan just texted all through French class.

So?

So!? Who is she texting?

I saw her hanging out with Marshall Moss at

Starbucks last night.

No. Seriously? She just broke up with David Drake.

Um, that was, like, a month ago.

I bet he’s the one who sent her all those flowers.

David?

No. Marshall. He seems like the romantic type.

Not possible. Marshall was still going out with Kristie Murphy on Valentine’s Day. He got her those gold earrings and then she dumped him?

So, wait. In the last month Ally Ryan has had David

Drake, Marshall Moss, and some secret admirer

all over her?

Yeah.

I thought she was supposed to be unpopular.

ally

Quinn twirled across the stage in a sequined pink leotard and huge, graceful tutu, her arms perfectly turned, her hair perfectly bunned, her feet perfectly pointed. Everyone in the audience applauded as she finished her circuit, my mom more enthusiastically than anyone. I checked my watch and sighed. When was this thing going to be over already?

My mother looked at me and clucked her tongue. But what did she expect? I’d never been a dancer, I’d never been remotely interested in dance, and yet here I was, sitting through a three-hour-long dance recital just so I could catch Quinn in one group number and one solo? Was this really how she thought I wanted to spend my Saturday? I couldn’t even believe this was where she wanted to be right now. But she’d said that Quinn had asked her personally to come, and she couldn’t turn her down. I guess the two of them were getting closer or something. Which of course completely wigged me out. I mean, it was sad that Quinn’s mother had passed away and all, and I’m sure it was nice for her to have a mom-type figure here watching her performance. But why did it have to be my mom?

Okay, that was selfish and immature. But still. I didn’t like where this was headed. It felt way too blended-family If I wasn’t step-freaked before, I definitely was now.

Of course, it wasn’t like I had anything better to do. Annie was working. David was still avoiding me. Marshall and the guys from the basketball team were going to a Knicks game tonight and spending the day in the city. And Jake was not an option. Today was his birthday. I’d texted him to wish him a happy birthday that morning, but so far, no reply. He’d probably gotten his license and a brand-new car and was now out with Hammond and the twins and Shannen doing something Crestie. Something I couldn’t be a part of.

As soon as the lights came up at intermission, I was out of my seat. The vending machines were calling my name. If I was going to make it through the second half of this thing, I was going to need caffeine. And sugar. Preferably in the form of chocolate.

“What is with your attitude today, Ally?” my mom asked, coming up behind me as I popped the top on an ice-cold can of Coke.

“Sorry. I just . . . why am I here again?” I asked.

My mother sighed and leaned back against the light blue cinder block wall. The recital was being held at some regional school a half hour from home, and I wondered if every school in North America had some kind of cinder block wall somewhere within its structure.

“You’re here to support Quinn,” she said.

“Right! Right.” I took a slug of my soda. “And why am I supporting Quinn again?”

“Ally,” my mom said in a warning tone.

I stepped away from the soda machine so the shaggy-haired skater dude behind me could get his fix—solidarity, brother—and stood next to her.

“What? I’m serious. Quinn and I aren’t even friends. She doesn’t care if I’m here or not.”

“Well, that’s kind of the point,” my mother said. “Gray and I were hoping we could all hang out so you two could get to know each other better.”

A knot tightened in my chest. That sounded ominous. “Why?”

“Because, hon. Gray and I have been dating for six months now,” she said. “It would be nice if we could all feel comfortable getting together. It would just make things . . . easier.”

Yeah. For you. But what about me? And what if my dad ever came back? What was she going to do if he walked in on some cozy family tableau of us and the Nathansons playing Scrabble in front of the fire?

Not that the condo had a fireplace, but still.

“So? What do you say? Can you give me one Saturday?” my mother asked.

I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” I straightened up when I saw Gray looking for us in the noisy crowd. “There’s your main squeeze now.”

She shook her head at me, then waved her hand to summon him. Gray saw us and started to cut through the milling parents and dance teachers and siblings. At least he was wearing a button-down shirt buttoned up all the way today. No chest hair to be seen. I took a big swallow of soda as he approached.