The text messages were mostly from Pam and Erin. They’d been trying to check in with her about her sleepover.Sarah decided a call wasn’t going to suffice. She would need to meet up with her friends. As her eyes slid down the text messages, she noticed Kurl had reached out. -Little Bunny! What’s up Saturday night? Let’s hang. Me + You. Good times. She giggled. He was such a flirt.Her eyes landed on the last few messages. They were all from Bent. He sounded worried. And mad.-Hey, u ok? Ur not answering. Call me. Five minutes later he’d written another message.-What’s going on? Sarah checked the time. He’d waited another forty-five minutes before sending his last text.-K. I’m coming over. This isn’t funny. She set down her phone on the desk in her father’s office, strumming her fingers on the cool surface. What was she to him, anyway? One minute he’s hot and dreamy and flirtatious with her. Letting her stay over at his house. Flirting with her in the library. Sleeping on the ground beside her at Elly’s. But then…he was cold. Standoffish. Dismissive. She punched in Pam’s number. And of course, Erin answered. “Pam’s phone,” Erin said, laughing. “Hello, Pam,” Sarah said. Erin sounded like she had dropped down onto a bed. “What’s up? You haven’t responded to any of our text messages.”Sarah sighed. “One of Elly’s friends accidentally broke my phone last night. I just got a new one.” Erin snorted. “Seriously? That phone was indestructible. What…did she like try to eat it?” Sarah rolled her eyes. “Anyway, where are you? Pam’s no doubt? I’m heading over in about an hour.” “K. See ya later, Chica,” Erin said.Sarah hung up. She ran upstairs to shower and dress. As she hastily unpacked her overnight bag, she spotted Bent’s clean sweatshirt and sweatpants piled neatly on her dresser. Her mother’s housekeeper had washed them awhile back, but she hadn’t been able to touch them since. Not that she didn’t want to. But it felt weird. She wasn’t actually dating Bent. Elly was. At the last minute, she dumped Bent’s sweatshirt and sweatpants into her bag. She’d decide later what she wanted to do about them. She yelled ‘Bye’ to her parents, and after patting Trash on the head, let herself back out of the house. She bobbed her head to the music as her Jeep cruised down Pam’s street. A few people were out and about. Children played frisbee in a yard. Two women pushed trendy strollers down the sidewalk. A teenager who Sarah thought she recognized from their school — he was probably in the band — walked a small white poodle. She pulled onto the side of the road, parking in front of Pam’s house. Pam’s manicured front yard and freshly painted house glowed brightly in the morning sunshine. The sunflowers in Pam’s mother’s flowerbeds stretched their long green necks up towards the sun. Sarah rang the bell. She listened to its familiar ‘ZIING ZIING ZIING’ through the house. Erin opened the door. “CHICA!” she screeched. She pulled Sarah’s arm, dragging her inside. Pam’s Siamese cat, Muffin, was curled up asleep in the sun-filled window beside the stairs. He was a mean cat. Whenever Sarah tried to pet him, he would bite. Erin pushed open Pam’s bedroom door. The room was very purple. Pam’s favorite color. She had a purple canopy bed. A fluffy purple rug. And even her wood furniture was stained a pale purple. A large cat clock ticked on the wall above her bed. Its tail was the large hand. “Sarah, hi!” Pam called, waving. She was in the process of straightening her red curls. Erin and Sarah flopped down onto Pam’s purple bedspread. Sarah tucked a small purple decorative pillow of a half moon under her chin. “Okay, how was the sleepover?” Erin asked. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.