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smothered in ketchup, a piece of chocolate cake, and a bottle of water. Quite the healthy meal.
    “Oh,” I said. “Hey.” I pushed an errant curl behind my ear, hoping to appear casual despite my pounding heart.
    “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She nodded toward the chair across from me. “So, can I sit here?”
    “Oh, yeah.” I shoved my journal into my bag. “Have a seat.”
    “Thanks.” She lowered herself into the chair.
    Movement behind her drew my eyes to Whitney’s table. A tall jock with sandy blond hair walked up to where she was sitting, leaned down to her, and kissed her. It wasn’t a short kiss either. It was a long, meaningful kiss.
    My eyes widened and my mouth gaped as I processed the sight.
    Chelsea followed my gaze and gave a knowing smile. “Oh, you’ve spotted the homecoming king and queen.”
    “Who?” I asked.
    She jerked a thumb toward Whitney’s table. “Whitney Richards and Chad Davis.”
    “Chad,” I said, lifting my water bottle. “Huh.”
    “I guess the rumors aren’t true,” Chelsea said, drowning a fry in the pool of ketchup on the plate. “They didn’t break up over the summer.”
    “I guess not.” I bit into my sandwich. “So Whitney has a boyfriend,” I grumbled. “Imagine that.”
    “You know her?” Chelsea stuck a fry into her mouth.
    “You could say that.” I took a long drink. “She’s my cousin.”
    “Really?” Chelsea’s eyes were wide. “I had no idea.”
    “What do you mean?” I batted my eyelashes and flipped a curl off my shoulder. “You don’t see the family resemblance?” I glanced down at my shirt. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot my cheerleading uniform and matching hair bow today.”
    Chelsea laughed, and I chuckled along with her.
    “You’re a hoot,” Chelsea said. She pulled her wallet from an overstuffed, colorful quilted bag that looked homemade. “Want to see a photograph of my twins?”
    “Your twins?” I studied her.
    She held out a wallet-sized photograph of two boys dressed in matching red sweaters and grinning while sitting in front of a background that showed Santa. Their red hair and smile matched hers. From my limited knowledge of kids, I guessed they were about three years old.
    “They’re adorable,” I said, handing her the photograph.
    “Yeah.” She studied the photograph. “Everyone thought I’d resent them, but honestly, they’re a blessing. We had a fun summer together. I miss them.”
    “Oh,” I said, trying to piece her story together. “So you babysit them.”
    “As often as I can.” She slipped the photograph back into her wallet and dropped the wallet into the bag.
    I knew I’d missed something, but I didn’t want to admit I wasn’t listening to her in gym. “What are their names again?” I asked, hoping to piece the story together with leading questions.
    “Justin and Jason Jr., after my stepdad.” She bit into her greasy cheeseburger.
    I almost choked on my sandwich. “After your stepdad?”
    “Yeah. My stepdad always wanted to have a junior, so my mom caved.”
    “Oh! They’re your brothers.”
    She gasped and threw a fry at me. “Of course they are. Did you think they were mine?”
    I laughed so hard that my eyes watered, and it felt like some of the weight on my shoulders magically lifted.
    Laughing as well, she shook her head. “Good grief. I don’t even want to imagine what you were thinking about me.”
    “I was wondering.” I wiped my eyes with my napkin and then finished my sandwich. “They’re adorable, and it’s really cool that you love them so much.”
    “How could I not?” Chelsea chewed another fry.
    Behind her, I spotted Zander standing by Whitney’s table. He pulled a chair up to the table, straddled it backward, and snatched a fry off another guy’s plate. The guy said something to Zander, and he leaned his head back, laughing.
    “Do you know him?” I asked, nodding toward Zander.
    “Which one?” Chelsea asked, turning around.
    “The guy