If someone told me at practice I'd spend my night spying on my cheating boyfriend, I would've laughed in their face. Because I was supposed to be curled up in my dad's painting hoodie by now, binging Criminal Minds with my aunt Harriet, not chilling on matching sun loungers with Rosie. Never mind sharing a drink she swore would dial back my 'psycho killer vibe down to a grumpy cat.' The first sip revealed a warm chocolate pumpkin mixture inside, where syrup burst on my tongue, sweet like burnt caramel. And was that orange zest? 

"What's this?" I asked, passing her the pink thermal mug, licking spice from my lips.

"Pumpkin Champurrado," she chirped. "Mom tops it with cinnamon sugar, but she's out-of-town visiting my abuela for a few weeks. Dotty's piloncillo syrup is a close second, though. Yum, right?"

"So worth coming back for. But what's the plan? How do you show you 'don't care,' anyway? Sounds like effort, and isn't that the opposite of 'not caring?' I asked, then scoffed. "Who am I kidding? Why am I asking you? You're moping around with me on your birthday because you feel sorry for me. You're ruled by your emotions."

"It might be a problem," she said so softly that I regretted making fun of her. "I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions about you. I guess I... It's stupid. I focused on you instead of Hazel because I didn't want her to see—"

"—how much she hurt you," I finished. 

Our eyes met as she said, "I'm sorry."

The fault didn't lie only with her. We both took it out on the wrong people. "Me too."

The pair of oblivious cheaters lazed on two watermelon floaties in the lake, hooked together by their ankles. Carter stroked Hazel's leg like it was second nature—maybe it was. My jaw clenched. So that's why he two-timed me? Because I wasn't touchy-feely enough? 

All that time he acted like my preference for personal space was some flaw to fix, when all he needed was someone compatible. Someone who returned the energy he clearly craved. And now, seeing him so open, so brazen, so happy? Why did he chase me at all? I never lured him in with false promises or pretended to be someone I wasn't. So why not break it off when all those love quizzes failed to turn me into someone who loved PDA? If it was such a damn deal breaker, why string me along?

Their shamelessness cast a shadow over the secluded corner we'd created by a Black Cottonwood tree twenty-five yards behind the lake deck. Part of me wanted to storm out onto the shore, to confront them (and skip rocks in their direction.) Another part, a quieter voice, urged me to stay put, to come up with a game plan. 

"Look, the one thing I learned is you can't pretend you don't care until you break up, and even then, it's hard," Rosie said.

I wrote a draft message on my phone. "How's this sound? Carter. Apologies for my absence recently. I've realized we're incompatible. You're touchy-feely. I prefer my personal bubble unpopped. Irreconcilable difference. This relationship is over. Best, Kate."

She couldn't keep a straight face. "There's 'I don't care' and then there's an emotionless robot."

"Thanks," I hiccupped.

"Not a compliment? Drunk texting never ends well."

"Good thing I'm not drunk."

One message, then blocked and erased from my life forever. The gold standard of a nonchalant breakup.

Apparently, Rosie disagreed, because she lunged for my phone before I hit send. I jerked back, stashing the device inside my bra right in time. Her sharp scoff made my lips twitch. That trick always worked. No one wanted to be the weirdo who felt up someone's boobs. Her gaze locked onto mine, resolve glinting like steel. You'd think I would've learned not to underestimate her by now. She climbed on top of me, her knees pinning me to the chair, while she frisked everywhere bar my chest.

She ignored my muffled complaints against her stomach. "Quit being a baby, Kate."

Her caring was a big problem.

As she patted me down, my phone slipped from my hiding spot, tumbling out the bottom of my shirt. I grabbed it before her, stretching my arm out to the side of the sun lounger while turning my face from her midsection. My reprieve didn't last long. Carter saw me, double-took, and splashed towards us from the lake, calling my name. 

Rosie jumped, balancing herself on my shoulders as we gawked at each other, frozen. How did we explain...this?Well, she jumped me, not the other way around. I spread my legs, leaving no space for her to sit. Her move. She opened her mouth to complain, but stopped short and gave me an easy nod that made my stomach drop. Without warning, she plopped down into the small gap between my legs, twisting to scoot back against my front, leaving my hands no choice but to settle on her waist.

1-0 to Rosie. 

"Kate? What are you doing here?" Carter asked, stopping at the end of the sun lounger, gaze darting between us.

"Like I could miss Rosie's birthday," I said, resting my chin on her tense shoulder. 

1-1.

"You're... friends now?" he asked. 

"Who knew my dad's car wash team bonding idea would actually take?" Rosie said, slapping my thigh hard enough to sting. 

2-1. 

"Nothing like hugging your mortal enemy to humanize them,' I agreed, bringing our game of chicken back to a tie by wrapping my arms around her. She stilled against my hands clasped on her stomach. Uh-huh. Two could play this game. Carter's awkward cough ended my mental victory lap. His wide, scandalized eyes almost made me laugh. Right. I was hugging someone. You know what they say... Desperate times called for desperate measures. Not that he needed to know that. "Anyway, what are you doing here?"

He thumbed over his shoulder. "A friend invited me. So, uh, I missed you this week. You okay?"

His concern was palpable—genuine—and would've shot off the Richter scale if I'd sent that text a few minutes ago. Maybe Rosie's did me a favor because ghosting Carter wouldn't do the trick. He'd track me down for a heart-to-heart. Maybe whip out a conflict crusher quiz for us to take. Or threaten me with one of Coach Connelly's sock puppets. One thing for sure? Our breakup couldn't come out of nowhere. Easing him into the split was the best approach, as annoying as it was. 

He needed to see me not caring before I pulled the trigger. The only question was how?

As if the moon had my back, its beam illuminated Hazel behind Carter's shoulder, tossing ping pongs into cups on the raft they'd kissed on. Rosie had brought me back to the party for a reason, to help me, so I couldn't ditch her. Which meant Carter and Hazel needed to see us both not giving a damn about them for my plan to work. What better way to make them squirm than to challenge them to a drinking game at the exact spot they made out in?

I gestured behind him, ignoring his question. "Is that Hazel Harrington over there? Your girlfriend, right, Rosie?"

"Ex," Rosie corrected with a pinch to my thigh.

"Is she playing what I think she's playing? I love beer pong. What does the birthday girl say?" I asked. "Us against them?"

"Is that a good idea since...?" Carter trailed off, motioning toward the girl in my lap.

"Rosie doesn't hold grudges," I lied, grabbing her hand before she pinched me again. "Besides, I haven't seen you all week, Carter. Your quality time meter must be in the red zone by now, huh?"

He gave a quick, awkward laugh. "Dangerously low. I'll set up the raft with Hazel while you both change."

Rosie waited until he splashed into the water before speaking. "This is a bad idea. Like, worse than the break-up text."

"At least I'm in control now. That's why you brought me back here, right? Not letting them win?" Silence met my question. She slipped from my grasp and stood up, frowning. "You know, it's not too late to take your own advice. You can show Hazel you've moved on. That you don't care about her anymore. Because if we don't go over there, she's going to know you do."

"Because of you," she said. 

"You're the one who brought me back."

"I didn't want you to wander alone in the woods upset and drunk."

"Buzzed," I corrected, reaching out to her. "And good job. Now I need a drinking partner."

"I don't care, I don't care, I don't care," she chanted under her breath, helping me up.

"That's the spirit."

"Is this a bad time to tell you I don't..." She dropped my hand before she reached the lake deck. "Never mind. Not important."

"I'm so not drunk enough for this," I mumbled.