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“Connecticut? I didn’t even think you could go to Connecticut in the summer. I thought it was like closed or something.”

Katie and I are sitting on Katie’s king-sized bed in her spacious lavender bedroom, flipping through the latest issues of UsWeekly and CosmoGirl magazines. It has been two days since my blowout with Mom and we’ve barely spoken to each other since, except when Mom told me that we’d be leaving on the first plane out early Saturday morning.

“Yeah,” I say softly, turning the pages of my magazine slowly, without reading a word.

“Well that really does reek for you. It’s like, prime surfing time. Plus, you’re going to completely lose your tan. I heard somewhere that the sun is like 40 times weaker in the Northeast.” Katie tosses her magazine on the floor and rolls over onto her back, looking up at the frilly white canopy draped across her bedposts. “Your mom is lame.”

“She’s not lame, she’s just…” Lost, I’m about to say, but instead: “So anyway, what do you think about Brandon?”

“Brandon who?” Katie asks as she holds her hands palms up in the air and examines her deep purple manicure.

“Brandon Bennett.”

“Your neighbor? What do you mean, what do I think about him?” Katie flips over onto her stomach and props her chin in her hands.

“I dunno,” I shrug, looking down quickly as I begin to flip faster through the magazine’s pages.

“Ha!” Katie cries suddenly, jumping up onto her knees. “You like him!” She giggles and shoves my shoulder.

“What? No! No I don’t, don’t be stupid!” I cry, rolling my eyes dramatically, as I feel the beginnings of a flush start to creep up my neck and hit my ears. “Ew, that’s gross – he’s like my brother!”

“So, what then?”

“What do you think about him? Like, do you think he’s cute?”

Katie shrugged, her long curls falling off her shoulders. “I guess. I never thought about it. He’s not ugly. Jeez Lucy, why?”

“Well I think he kinda likes you. I think he might ask you to the School Daze.”

I wait for Katie to burst out laughing, to throw her hair over her shoulder and squeal in amusement. When she doesn’t, I look up from my magazine.

“Huh.” Katie says, her face turned toward the window. “Well,” she shrugs. “Why not? You think he’s a nice kid, and you’re my best friend. There must be something special about him.”

“Y-yeah,” I stammer. “Yeah, Brandon’s a great guy. You’ll have fun.”

“Yeah. As long as…” Katie turns to me and narrows her eyes, her gaze questioning. “Are you sure you don’t like him as, like, more than a friend?”

“I’m sure.” I say soundly. Because I am. Sure. I'm sure.