Page 47 of As You Walk On

I get the appeal for Darren.

She smirks. “Reliable sources tell me Devya has been asking about you.”

“Wait, seriously?”

The excited pitch of Luca’s voice unnerves me. Ten minutes ago, he admitted he wasn’t over her. Well, his wallpaper made thatconfession. Something pangs in my stomach. It tightens as Luca asks a million and one questions about Devya.

What did she say? Where was she at? How did she look? Who else heard? Everything but why the fuck should he care?

(Okay, that was a whole new level of petty, even for me.)

I hug my knees to my chest.

After Makayla fields most of Luca’s inquiries with vague answers, she surveys the room. It’s amusing watching her expression change as she takes us in. Curiosity and confusion for River. Familiarity and a subtle meh-ness for me—a look courtesy of her friendship with Jayla, no doubt. Then offense and disappointment for Aleah.

Aleah seems delighted to mirror the same expression back.

Like most of the sports teams, the Ballers and cheer squad are a tight group. The fallout of whatever happened with Aleah, Lexi, and Derek must’ve changed things. It’s clear whose side Makayla has chosen.

“Is this a drama club meeting?” she asks.

“That’s a hell and a no,” I answer.

“Obvi. I’m co-prez of this year’s senior drama troupe. Thanks, Theo,” Makayla says dryly.

I’m quite aware. A video of her clutching an acceptance letter from Florida State University, all while fake sobbing—YPT truly is a great program—with her family celebrating in the background is still talked about daily.

“Luca, this isn’t your... usual crowd,” Makayla insists, hands on her hips.

“Are there applications for what crowds we can hang out withnow?” Aleah asks, interrupting Luca’s already feeble-sounding response. “Please, Lawrence, lay down the rules. What’re the qualifications to be on Luca’s team, because I’m only signing up if there’s free ‘Traitors’ merch given out with every admission.”

“Traitor?” Makayla scoffs.

“Would you like a definition? Google is free.”

“So is not being bitchy to people who don’t deserve it,” Makayla snaps.

I hug my knees tighter. If I’m being honest, it’s nice having Aleah’s wrath aimed somewhere else. Whatever’s happened seems deeper than just a breakup between one of our school’s sweetheart couples. It’s certainly disrupted the flow of the party. In fact, Aleah rarely attends these functions. I figured it was lack of transportation from the West End to whichever wealthy kid’s northside residence was hosting. The city bus line doesn’t run as late as most parties last.

The questions keep piling up. I’m not going to ask any of them.

Not now, at least.

Aleah barks a laugh. “That’s the thing about being popular—everyone who doesn’t fit in your clique is bitchy.” She shakes her head,pffting. “Problem is, the real assholes are the ones you callfriend.”

Makayla bares her teeth, ready to go right back at her. But she doesn’t.

The bedroom door creaks open.

“Hey-yo!”

A white boy with golden-copper hair leans in the doorway. He looks a little older than us. College freshman, maybe. He lazilyholds an orange cup, smiling goofily with bright blue eyes and a constellation of freckles across his nose and cheeks.

“Unlocked bedroom equals bathroom,” he announces. “Score one for me and my need for a long piss.”

I blink at him for a minute. Is he for real?

“Uh, who the fuck are you?” Aleah asks, brow furrowed.

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