“Nothing is going on? Oh, okay,” Cora mocks. “Yeah, I wasn’t even in the back seat with you guys, but I felt the energy,” Lindsay says. “There’s no energy,” I say, sticking to the plan of denial. “Then why were you holding hands the entire time?” Cora asks with a hand on her hip. Lindsay whips around to us. “They were holding hands the entire time?” Exaggerating her movements, Cora nods her head. “Oh yeah, and not like just clasping.” She picks up Lindsay’s hand and weaves their fingers together. “They were linked.” Lindsay’s eyes widen. “Linked fingers are not for friends. Linked fingers are
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