says Josh, pronouncing soirée in his fake-snooty voice. “My friends would love to rub shoulders with your friends.” “Ick!” I shudder as I serve dinner for the two of us. “I can imagine Dylan trying to rub more than shoulders. Amanda might think his pathetic boob obsession is cute, but Terri would probably clock him.” “Dylan’s a big talker, but you know he’s completely intimidated by girls.” Josh waggles his eyebrows. “Especially seventeen-year-old girls who are totally hot.” “Aaaaand, there’s reason number one-hundred-thirty-seven why my friends and your friends will never comingle.” I stab at the mound of spaghetti on my plate. It’s a little mushy, since I was distracted by my social studies homework and overcooked the pasta again. I tried to jazz up the canned sauce with a little oregano and the overall effect is… well, edible anyway. “We are not having a party this weekend. Period.”
