“What about Hailey?” She purses her lips and looks around, checking to be sure we’re alone. “No…” she draws the single word out, like it’s a musical note. “Not Hailey. You.” She pokes my collarbone. And now I know precisely where I reside on her social ladder: second rung from the bottom. Hailey occupies the last one, and as soon as she learns I’m invited to Alexis’s birthday and she’s not, she’ll know it too.
No. Don't go there, Sam.
