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wondering if Sebastian couldn’t sleep, like me, and is calling to explain/apologize/beg to take me back. But it’s only Ava.
    “Hellooo,” I say morosely into the phone. I’ve been up all night crying. Big, sloppy, wet tears that pooled on my pillow and made it hard to sleep since my pillowcase became a disgusting, sopping mess. Although I have to admit Ava was right—the making out with Jonah Moncuso did kind of help. And so did the three beers I drank. But definitely not enough to erase the fact that Sebastian never called me to see how I was doing, or to ask me why I spent all night making out with Jonah Moncuso, or to tell me why he was making out with some other girl, or even to at least break up with me properly. I mean, who does that? He obviously knows that I know that he cheated, and he knows that I was making out with Jonah. Everyone knows I was making out with Jonah. It was kind of creating a buzz at the party, if you want to know the truth.
    “I knew you’d be awake,” Ava says. “Get out of bed.”
    “No thank you.” I roll over and bury my head into my damp pillow. The sun is streaming in through the windows, and I calculate how much energy it would take to get up and close the blinds. Too much, so I decide to just keep my eyes shut extra tight.
    “I’m coming over and taking you to Starbucks,” Ava says.
    “You are ?” This is a supreme sacrifice on Ava’s part. She hates Starbucks. She thinks coffee stains your teeth, plus her psycho ex-boyfriend, Riker, works there, and sometimes Ava thinks he might, like, slip something into her drink. Like poison or a laxative or something. She thinks this not because she’s paranoid, but because one time after she ordered, Riker actually said, “You want some poison or a laxative with that?” She totally complained to his boss, but the boss didn’t care. That’s because the boss, this college girl named Britney, is having sex with Riker.
    “Yes,” she says. “And we’re going to order breakfast sandwiches and cookies and whatever other overproduced, disgusting, addictive things Starbucks has to offer.”
    “Will you even get whipped cream on your coffee?” I ask her.
    Pause. “Yes.”
    “Ava, I love you!” Things are suddenly looking up, and I throw the sheets off and jump out of bed, heading to my dresser to pull on a tank top and shorts.
    But when Ava gets there ten minutes later, I’m depressedagain. And when we get to Starbucks fifteen minutes after that, I’m really, really depressed.
    “I loved him,” I moan once we’re sitting at a table in the back, an assortment of muffins and breakfast sandwiches in front of us.
    “No you didn’t,” Ava says. She’s making my coffee for me just the way I like it, with tons of cream and sugar. It’s actually making me feel better that she’s treating me like an invalid. I’m glad she knows I’m having a hard time and that I need to be coddled.
    “Yes, I did,” I say, as she slides my coffee across the table to me. “I really did, I thought he was the love of my life!” Even I know this is a little dramatic. I mean, I didn’t really think Sebastian was the love of my life. But he could have been. You know, like when he matured. But now I’ll never know. It’s totally sad.
    “Well, you need a new life plan then,” Ava says. “And pronto.” She hands me a breakfast sandwich, melted cheese oozing out of one side. “Eat,” she instructs. I take a bite obediently, and Ava nods in satisfaction. Then she says, “Anyway! I have news!” She claps her hands and looks excited.
    I immediately drop the sandwich back onto my plate and look at her. “What?” I ask, my heart soaring. She might be about to tell me that Sebastian loves me after all! That he heard about my hot make-out session with Jonah and now he’s realized what he had. Of course, I couldn’t take him back after he cheated on me. Could I?
    “I’m going to Maine!” Ava declares. She takes a dainty bite of her