Parallel

her direction. She’s staring at Tyler, her face contorted in disbelief. Tyler mutters something indecipherable.
    “Keep my voice down?” Ilana shrieks. “You break up with me—at a party , in front of my friends —and then you have the audacity to tell me to keep my voice down? Who do you think you are?”
    My eyes dart to Caitlin. Hers are glued to the drama unfolding across the street. I brace myself, waiting for Ilana to come screaming toward me.
    This is not how I expected this to go.
    Yes, I assumed Tyler would probably break up with Ilana at some point. But I didn’t think he’d do it tonight . Or in front of a crowd.
    “If that’s all it took to put him over the edge, their relationship was doomed anyway,” I murmur.
    “If what was all it took?” Caitlin asks.
    “Whatever made him break up with her. Not that I know what that is,” I quickly add. “Because I don’t.” Caitlin gives me a funny look.
    “And . . . she’s out.” Andy points his roasting stick at Ilana’s retreating figure. She flings open her car door and gets in. I look over at Tyler. He’s looking at Caitlin.
    This is bad. This is very bad.
    “Hey, I’m pretty tired,” I say to Caitlin, feigning a yawn. “Can you take me home?”
    “Right this second?” Caitlin asks. “I just got here. Besides, didn’t you drive? I saw your car when I drove in.”
    “I’m not feeling well.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tyler heading toward us. “I don’t think I should drive.”
    “I can take you,” Andy offers, skewering another marshmallow with his stick. “I told my dad I’d be home early tonight.”
    “Oh . . . that’s okay,” I say. “I’ll just wait for Cate.” Caitlin eyes me. She knows something is up. I pretend not to notice.
    “You okay?” Caitlin asks as Tyler joins our little circle. She puts her hand on his forearm. There are nail marks on the inside of his wrist.
    “I’m great,” he tells her, and smiles. “Although I think she may have shattered my eardrum,” he adds, tugging on his earlobe.
    “That girl does have quite the set of lungs,” Andy muses as he watches his marshmallow burn. “Want a beer?”
    “Nah, I think I’m done for tonight,” Tyler tells him. “I had about a quart of JB at the museum. I should probably quit while I’m still standing.”
    “I’ll drive you,” I say before Andy can offer. There’s no way I’m staying to make small talk with Caitlin. She and I don’t do small talk. And we don’t do fake talk either. So unless I’m prepared to admit that I’m freaking out about the fact that I told our best guy friend that she has a thing for him after she told me unequivocally that she doesn’t, it’s time to call it a night.
    “A minute ago you were too sick to drive,” Caitlin points out.
    “I got a second wind,” I say.
    “In the last sixty seconds?”
    “Ty, you ready?” I ask, pretending not to hear her. He’s busy shoving marshmallows onto a stick.
    “One sec,” he says. “I’m making a roadie.”
    Caitlin pulls me aside. “What’s going on with you?” she asks, lowering her voice. “You’re acting bizarre.”
    “Nothing!” I say brightly. A little too brightly. Caitlin eyes me suspiciously.
    “I don’t believe you. Is this about my essays? Did you read them and hate them?”
    “If I hated them, I’d tell you,” I reply. “I haven’t read them yet. But I will,” I promise. “Tomorrow.”
    “So why are you being weird?”
    “I’m not being weird,” I insist, careful to avoid Caitlin’s gaze. “I’m just tired.”
    “’Kay, let’s go,” Tyler declares, his mouth full of chocolate pieces. There’s a burnt marshmallow stuck to each pinkie. “Bring the graham crackers.”
    “Okay, bye!” I announce, to no one in particular. Then beeline to my car.
    As soon as we pull away from the party, I slump down in my seat, visibly relaxing.
    “Why are you being weird?” Tyler asks. At least, I think that’s what he said. With the two marshmallows he has jammed in his mouth, it’s hard to be sure.
    “You can’t tell Caitlin what I told you.”
    “I can’t?”
    “I’m serious, Tyler. She’d freak if she found out. Promise me you won’t tell her.”
    “I won’t tell her,” he says. “But if you were so worried how she’d react, why’d you tell me in the first place?”
    “Because I wanted you to do something about it,” I say. “ Subtly. And I knew you wouldn’t make a move unless you knew you had a