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“Yes.” No point in dancing around it now. “Two beds.”
“You could probably stay with your dad.”
“I barely know my dad.”
She worries her bottom lip. “Are you guys... friends again?”
“No.”
Her eyes search mine for a lie before she clears her throat and stands. “I think I’m going to check on Juniper.”
“Corrine,” I say, standing too. “Are you okay?”
“Would it really matter if I wasn’t?” She doesn’t snap at me. Though I feel like I deserve it. “It’s fine. You said there’s nothing going on; you’re not even friends. You’re just making a documentary and he’s just doing a contest.”
“Right.”But is she?It kind of feels like Holden and I might be friends again. Maybe. The Hershey’s Kisses certainly felt like a peace offering, a chocolaty one I have resisted digging into so far because it’ll feel slightly more real if I let it.
She points to the bathroom Juniper disappeared into, making her escape, but at that moment, right when the band is loading their stuff off the stage to make way for the next band, Turtlenecks, Juniper storms out, determination on her face, and marches up to Devon Miles Smith. She pokes him in the chest.
“You’re a dick,” she says. The rest of her speech fades as she lowers her voice so only he, and a wide-eyed Kayla, can hear.
Kayla slowly backs away until she’s standing next to me. We watch as Juniper gestures wildly and Devon Miles Smith standsthere with his mouth open wide, catching flies because he’s trash.
“Tell him, Juniper!” Kayla calls across the room.
Juniper stops scolding him to give Kayla a thumbs-up.
“Yeah!” I lean into Kayla and whisper, “I have no clue what she’s saying, but I support her.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Corrine put her phone against her ear and walk outside. My gut clenches. “Do you supportme?”
Kayla raises an eyebrow. “I mean, I don’t support you no matterwhat. Like, don’t suddenly become a racist or something. What do you need support for?”
I sigh. “I’m going to New York with Holden this weekend. We have to stay overnight. We’re going to be in the same hotel room—but separate beds—and, I don’t know, is it wrong?”
She looks at the door Corrine slipped through. “I don’t really think there’s winning with this. It’s probably just best to finish it and move on.”
“I don’t want to hurt her, butshebroke up withhim. Why does it feel like she still has feelings? Even with the whole Logan thing.”
She shrugs. “I think it’s complicated. You were friends with him, she dated him, he’s not supposed to be in either of your lives right now, but he is. It’s messy. Feelings are messy.” She watches Juniper take a big breath and start in on Devon Miles Smith again.
“I’m so in love,” she says under her breath.
“What?” Devon Miles Smith asks Juniper, his eyes wide and jaw dropped.
“You heard me,” she says louder. She jumps onto the stage and grabs the microphone from the singer of Turtlenecks, a late-twenties guy with thick-rimmed glasses and dyed-gray hair. “You treat me badly and I deserve better. We’re done.”
She hops off the stage and walks out, the only evidence she was there the stunned faces of everyone and the round of applause Kayla and I break into in her absence. In time to catch the last second of Juniper’s show, Corrine waltzes inside with Logan’s hand wrapped around hers and a huge smile on her face.
It doesn’t reach her eyes, though. Not that anyone besides me could tell.
