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locks down on my shoulders. Heat builds in my chest and travels up my neck. I keep my eyes on the spoon.
    Maybe on a different day, if it wasn’t the cherry on top of one of the worst weeks of my life, or if it wasn’t right in front of Declan, who after tonight probably thinks I’m a complete skank-wad, maybe then I would let it go.
    Instead, I channel Sadie. Twist the spoon around in my ice cream and look up through my lashes. Holding his gaze, I flip it onto my tongue and slowly, teasingly pull it out of my mouth.
    “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I whisper.
    He looks over his shoulder, checking that no one can overhear, before resting his elbows on the glass. “Well, I think we should finish what we started in that pool,” he says in a hushed voice.
    “Right.” I stab the spoon into my ice cream and grab a five-dollar bill out of my purse. “But you know what, Jake? I don’t owe you a goddamn thing.” I toss the money across the counter at him and move past Mackenzie, who’s still sampling flavors, and Gwen, who, judging by the raised eyebrows and stunned smile on her face, witnessed the whole thing.
    Declan holds the door open for me and stares over my head. “Everything all right over there?”
    I answer without turning around. “Yep. Everything’s fine.”
    After a few more samples, Mackenzie lands on peanut butter and joins us at the picnic table we’re occupying.
    “It’s good.” She slides in next to me on the bench. “But not mint-chocolate-chip good.”
    “We’ll get you mint next time,” Gwen says.
    Mackenzie takes another bite and leans across the table toward Declan. “What’d you get?”
    She’s propped on her forearms, giving Declan a view of what’s under her neckline. Not that her shirt is really that low-cut. In fact, her vintage all-American look is downright wholesome. No wonder Declan likes her.
    He holds out his Styrofoam cup and she takes a sip. From his straw.
    I drop the spoon back into my melting ice cream.
    “Mmm, not bad.” She gestures to her cup. “Want to try mine?”
    Okay, please tell me she’s not about to spoon-feed him.
    “No, thanks,” Declan says. But he keeps smiling at her, like it’s just the nicest thing in the world that she offered.
    Cory is staring at her too. Ice cream is dripping down his cone onto his hand. I wad a napkin up and throw it at his chest. His forehead wrinkles.
    “You’re welcome,” I say sweetly.
    Mackenzie looks at my ice cream and frowns. “Do you not like yours?”
    “No, it’s fine. I just don’t have much of an appetite tonight.”
    “Gotcha. Hey, we should make this a regular thing. Like, after class or something. You too, Cory.”
    Cory lights up. “Yeah. Definitely.”
    “Cool. Next round will be on me.” She smiles and finally sits back on the bench to finish her ice cream.
    God, why does she have to be so nice? It makes it really hard to hate her.
    Declan’s straw gives that end-of-the-line gurgle, and he sets the empty cup down. Gwen is done too. We wait for Mackenzie to finish—she’s seriously the slowest eater ever—before we all toss our cups in the trash. Mackenzie hugs Declan, and then suddenly her arms are around me.
    “See you in class!”
    I pat her on the back. “Yep. See you then.”
    She bounces over to Gwen, and after another wave good-bye, the girls head over to an apple-red vintage car.
    “Whoa.” Cory nudges Declan’s shoulder. “She drives a Datsun?”
    “Yeah, a 240Z. From 1971, I think. She restored the engine herself.”
    Beyond how to change a tire, I don’t know a thing about cars. “She did?”
    Declan nods.
    “Amazing,” Cory says. He practically needs a drool cup.
    Mackenzie revs the engine and pulls out. The boys wait until they can no longer hear the purr of the engine before walking back to Declan’s Focus.
    Ten minutes later, we’re parked in my driveway. Cory ruffles my hair from the backseat, which he knows I hate. I turn around to smack him, and he