Alex insisted on going home right away to get dolled up because it was our first party of the new term and her first chance to make waves. I went with her since it was easier for me to get permission from my parents through a text message than in person, anyway. Beth and Erin agreed to pick us up after an hour or so.

"I'm gonna go shower. Help yourself to whatever," Alex told me when we got to her room. "And don't start straightening up, we'll be here all night."

"I'm just gonna make the bed," I replied, because I was already doing so. It was driving me crazy. There was no reason for it to be in such a mess. They had a live-in housekeeper, for God's sake.

"Why do you like making me feel like such a slob?"

"I don't. I just like having an excuse to snoop around."

"Well then, snoop around the closet for something to wear. I'm gonna take a shower. Leave the clothes on the floor alone."

Of course, I picked them up and hung them in the closet as soon as she turned and left the room.

Since the party was to be held outdoors, I made the decision to stay in my jeans and flats and just change into a nicer top.

Just as I'd expected, Alex's closet was brimming with stuff I'd never seen before, some with tags still attached, while some still stuffed in shopping bags. Sometimes I wondered if that girl had some kind of problem.

She and I wore the same size down to our feet, but her clothes never looked the same on me as they did on her. After rummaging through a whole mess of cropped tops, minidresses, and skin-tight nightmares, I found, by some miracle, something more my style: an oversized but lightweight top in pale pink (my favorite color) with kiss- prints in different bright colors all over.

"You're not wearing that!" Alex had returned to the room, wrapped in a towel, just in time to see me make my choice. "Where'd you even get such a tacky thing?"

"This—" I widened my eyes and held up the top for her to see— "is yours."

"Oh. I must've been thinking of you when I bought it," she said, shrugging. I scowled and gave her a sideways glance but she hardly noticed, already preoccupied with scanning the contents of her closet herself. "Go get ready. Leave the outfits to me."

"Fine. I'm looking through your medicine cabinet."

"Birth control's in my nightstand, though. Top drawer."

"Hell if I'm looking in there." I called out on my way to her bathroom.

From Alex's countless bath products, I picked out the pinkest one in the frilliest bottle and lathered up. The scent of roses filled the room. My mood picked up instantly, although I was still a little put off by her birth control comment. I knew she was kidding; I just didn't think those jokes were all that funny, and sometimes led to trouble.

The water felt nice but not hot enough so I slowly turned the handle. The cloud that rose from the bathroom floor became thicker and I could barely keep from wincing when the stream hit. I turned it a little more . . .

"Ugh! What's taking you so long?" Alex rapped against the door sharply, jolting me back to reality. "Come see what I picked out."

Alex stood at the foot of her bed and held up two short dresses that were identical in style, except one was red while the other, black. They had wide straps, low-cut top and a fitted bodice, flared skirt, and cutout sides.

"We'll be overdressed. At least, from the waist down. My chest might catch a cold."

"And these are the shoes." She ignored me and laid out two completely identical pairs of black 5-inch peep-toe platforms.

Oh yeah, she definitely had a problem. Like, why would anybody ever buy two pairs of the exact same shoes?

"The party's by the river," I reminded her, eyeing her selection with grimace. "One false step and we'll fall in the water and drown." She didn't seem to budge, so I had to change my strategy. "Besides, it's gonna be hard to do any kind of spying in those shoes. What if the guys run away again?"

She was quiet for a moment, seeming to consider this, then walked over to her closet, gave me back the top I chose earlier, along with a pair of cutoffs. Then she got cutoffs for herself and a red boyfriend shirt. "I just remembered. . . I bought these cute flats I'm dying to wear," she said, brightly. "What the hell, let's give those Adamson girls a fighting chance."

After we got dressed, she went to work on my makeup. "I wish we had time for a mask treatment." She sighed, and continued to express her regret in not hearing about the party sooner. 'Cause then we could've really gone all out "Almost done. Hand me your makeup kit."

I got what she asked for out of my backpack. From it she took out my lipgloss and mascara. According to her, there were some things too personal for even best friends to share.

Alex could give those gurus on YouTube a run for their money if it weren't for her camera-shyness or whatever. She was a real artist and made the process fun by talking about anything and everything under the sun the entire time. It was an honor and a pleasure to act as her canvas on occasion

This was something I would never say to Alex's face, simply because if she knew, she'd want to do it everyday, which would be unbearable. The most that I could manage on a daily basis was sunscreen and lip balm, and sometimes sheer foundation to make my skin look better than it actually was.

"Leave your hoodie, okay, Adrian?" she advised. "If you get cold, just let some guy be the hero for once."

"Some guy? Like, literally anyone will do?" I gaped at her. Like I said, she'd marry me off to anybody who came within ten feet of me. "Ugh! You know, I'm amazed you've never tried to hook me up with Ethan or Tristan at this point."

"Tristan? Come on, I'm not that delusional, yet," she said. Her expression turned serious. "As for Ethan, well, you know there's conflict of interest there .  Y'know . . .girl code and everything."

It took me a while to get what she was saying, and then—mindblown. "You and Ethan dated?"

"Not officially." She rolled her eyes. "Ethan doesn't date."

Everyone knew this. Girls liked Ethan enough but he wasn't exactly boyfriend material. Due to his circumstances, he didn't have the resources or time to spend on a girlfriend."

"But you wanted to?"

"You know me, I'm up for anything," she said.

I bit my tongue. There was no doubt that Alex believed this with all her heart, but she was also used to the finer things in life. No wonder it didn't work out.

"When?"

"A long time ago . . . eighth grade, I think," she said shrugging. "I thought you knew?"

"How? You never told me."

"Well, you have this way of sniffing out people's secrets," she pointed out. "I just assumed you figured things out on your own but didn't want to talk about it."

"We definitely would have talked about it, whether I wanted to or not." I was making broad gestures and she had to clamp her hands down my shoulder to get me to stay still as she put a few finishing touches on me. Afterwards, I stood up and she took my place on her vanity's stool and worked on her own makeup.

We were both quiet afterwards, and I had to admit, as I took a moment to recall certain events in the time she mentioned, their shared past did explain a couple of things.

The only thing that didn't make sense was how they could still carry on the way they did with each other at present, after things didn't work out. Sure, she and Ethan didn't go as far back as he or any of the Off-Kilter guys and I did, but was it really that simple for some people? No big blowup? No fallout?

Doubtful, but also somewhat promising.

"So, um, if the guys did have secret girlfriends, how would you feel about that?"

"To be perfectly honest, it would be something if Ethan did manage to get an Adamson girl. He thought I was high maintenance!" She sounded really amused at the thought.  "Why are you dwelling on this? Do you like Ethan?"

"God, Alex!"

"'Cause I'd be okay with it if you do—"

"How is that okay?" I shouted, and flung myself down on her bed. I wanted to turn away from her, cover my face with her pillow, but she would just yell at me for ruining my makeup, so I settled for lying on my back and staring straight at her ceiling. "I won't even use your lipgloss!"

She furrowed her brows. "You know there's a difference, right?" I huffed in response. "Just checking. I'm just saying I'd be fine with it."

"Okay," I said, rolling my eyes. "And I'm saying I'm not interested."

The hand she was using to swirl a large brush all over her face wavered. "I guess I knew that or I wouldn't say it . . . You're a good friend, Adrian."

"Wait, were you testing me?" I cried, and then did a double take. "Are you saying you haven't moved on?"

"Trust me. If I still wanted him, I'd have him."

There was no arguing her point, so I said nothing and considered the matter dropped. Instead, I concentrated on wiping off the brushes we had used, putting them back in the roll, and arranging them by size.

"Speaking of moving on . . ." Alex spoke again after a moment, making me look up from my task. "Can I tell you? I'm really glad that you're talking to Matt again."

"We needed directions." I shrugged and studied the rest of Alex's makeup collection, trying to figure out a better organization system for her.

"Come on, Adrian." Alex turned in her seat to face me, her expression stern. "Don't you think this has gone on long enough? So he didn't jump at the chance to ask you out the exact moment you wanted him to. He came around, didn't he? He made his move eventually. Shouldn't that count for something?" She took a deep breath. "Not all boys who disappoint you do it to be cruel. Sure, there are some who are like that, but there are also some who are just scared. Or slow."

"Or both?"

She laughed. "Or both. But they still deserve a second chance. Or at least a little honesty, if only to put them out of their misery."

Amazing. Three years later and Alex still couldn't be more wrong about which boy I had my heart set on. On the other hand, what she had said still applied.

"I'll talk to him," I said. I didn't bother setting her straight just then, afraid that going into too much detail would cause me to lose my nerve.

If things went well, she'd find out the truth soon enough, anyway.