A couple of things went through my mind.

One, I missed Caressa down to my soul. It would be our first girl's night without her there, and that made it feel off-balance. Plus, let's face it: the whole makeover, manicure, pedicure aspect of the evening wouldn't be the same without Caressa's monumental stash of goods and veritable wealth of knowledge about how to use everything.

Two, despite gigantic odds, our favorite seemingly impenetrable snark queen, Lila, had really matured over the past couple months. Kicking and screaming, perhaps, but there you have it. Seriously, she had a million and one reasons to snub Jennifer...yet she hadn't. Instead, she'd reached out when Jen needed it most. Lila stepped in when Jennifer's parents fell down on the job. It was enough to make me cry, but Lila would've hated it if I'd made a big deal.

Let me go on record, however, saying it is a major deal.

And then, oh my G.o.d, suggesting Jennifer join us on the New York trip?!

Gigantic.

But the night of the infamous birthday sleepover rolled around and, as expected, Lila got cold feet. She begged me to come over half an hour early to talk her down from the ledge of panic. She needed convincing that what she'd done-basically drawing Jennifer into the inner circle-actually const.i.tuted a good idea rather than a mental break.

No problem. I'd dealt with Lila's meltdowns for years.

I showed up as usual with my pillow, an overnight bag, a big bag of junk food (along with some healthy options for the mom-to-be), and a wrapped gift. I knocked with the toe of my shoe. When Lila opened the door, I said, "Hey."

"No time for that." She reached out, grabbed the sleeve of my T-shirt, and yanked, causing me to stumble over the threshold. "Please tell me what in the h.e.l.l I was thinking? First this sleepover, then the trip? Our freakin' trip? And her parents said yes. Yes! Can you believe it?"

I smiled mildly, handing her the bag of junk food. "You were being a nice person. It's great that her parents agreed. Big karma points, Lila. Big."

"Yeah. Explain that." She tore into a bag of Cheetos, wide-eyed and manic. "It's totally out of character for me to give a rip about my karma," she added around a mouthful of neon orange crunch.

"It is not." Such a drama queen. I angled my head toward the stairs. "Mind if I dump my stuff in your room?"

Lila hiked her chin toward the staircase, because her mouth was crammed too full to speak at that point, a little dusting of orange like an aura around her lips.

I sniffed the air. "What smells good?"

"I baked her a German chocolate cake," Lila groused, after she'd swallowed. "From scratch, which was freakin' hard. I can't believe people even baked before packaged mixes. And, anyway, don't say a word."

We clomped up the stairs, me in front with a huge smile on my face and a warm feeling in my chest. I held my tongue, but it wasn't easy.

"Oh yeah, how's Caressa feeling about this whole sleepover debacle?" Lila asked, in that freaked-out Lila voice we all knew and loved. "The trip is bad enough, but a sleepover? She'll think we replaced her. With a b.i.t.c.h, no less!"

I dumped my overnight gear onto her bed and spun to face her, fists on my hips. "She doesn't think that at all. First of all, n.o.body could replace her."

"Well, true. We know that."

"Besides, I already told her we'd call her tonight."

Lila blinked, surprised. "You did?"

I nodded. "And in case you're wondering, she thought it was sweet of you to throw this party together."

"It's not a party," she grumbled.

"Yes it is," I said in a calm tone. "Another thing: you'd better stop referring to Jennifer as a b.i.t.c.h, because she's the guest of honor and we don't actually think she's a b.i.t.c.h anymore, remember?"

"Right. Okay."

"Plus, she's going to be here in just a few minutes."

"Oh, G.o.d!" The Cheetos bag crunched in her clutches as the panic crested in her expression.

I held both palms up. "Unless you want the whole event to be a nightmare, you're going to have to calm down. Haven't we moved past all that drama with Jennifer?"

She nodded...and didn't stop. She looked like a Lila Moreno bobblehead. I wanted to laugh, but I knew I needed to maintain the calm, cool confidence.

"Yes. You're right. Okay, how?"

"How what?"

"How do I calm down?" Without warning, the Cheetos bag was thrust against my chest. "And get these away from me before I puke. My stomach is churning enough as it is."

I carefully folded the top of the bag, then stowed them on top of Lila's dresser. Someone had to be the voice of reason, maintain the serenity. That role always fell into my lap, incidentally, but I was comfortable with it. "Well," I started, "why don't you think back to the moment you invited Jennifer over." I paused. "What was going through your head then?"

Lila jammed all ten fingers into the front of her hair and paced. At the far end of the room, she spun toward me. "It might've been a psychotic episode."

I laughed that time. Couldn't help it. It's gratifying when someone you love reacts true to form. Makes you feel all warm and safe inside. "Come on. Stop it."

She sagged with the power of her exhale. "Fine. I did it because she seems to be trying. Really trying, you know?"

Now we were getting somewhere. "Good! That's a great start. So, Jennifer's trying...to what?"

Lila looked uncertain. "Be a better person?"

I c.o.c.ked my head. "Statement or question?"

"Statement. I think." She grimaced. "Plus, it's her birthday, and I just felt...bad."

"That's compa.s.sion." I narrowed my gaze at Lila. "Admit it, you sort of like her."

"Sort of, I guess. This version of her at least. Jennifer 2.0." Her eyes widened with worry. "But what if she's using us? What if she makes fun of my room, or our house? What if I'm nothing more than a stupid, gullible-"

"Stop!" I crossed my arms. "Do you really want to walk through life harboring those kinds of paranoid thoughts?"

A pause. "No, I guess not."

"You don't. Trust me."

"I do trust you." Lila stepped closer and gripped my upper arms. "That's the thing. You and Caressa are the only people I trust, Mer. And yet I invited someone from the enemy camp to infiltrate one of our private, sacred rituals."

The drama was getting out of hand. I pulled her down to sit next to me on the edge of the bed. "Okay, listen. There is no sacred ritual. It's a sleepover, plain and simple. Pajamas. Junk food. We're going to paint each other's toenails." I waited until I felt certain her overactive imagination had stopped racing, or at least slowed down. "We are extending an olive branch of friendship to a girl who has no one, a girl who has changed and apologized, all that. We're being the bigger people letting bygones be bygones. That can never be wrong."

Lila gnawed at her bottom lip, but she nodded.

"And besides, all this time that Jennifer's been trailing around after me-"

"Single white female," Lila said, with a touch of scorn.

This confused me. "Excuse me?"

"Never mind. Old movie reference. Go ahead."

I nodded. Why did the whole world speak in movie and TV references? Sheesh! "Well, let's just say I have pretty good instincts about people. I don't think she's using us to get through to her due date. Honestly. The pregnancy has opened her eyes quite a bit. It's changed her."

"Yeah." Lila snort-chuckled. "Into a chubby girl with brown hair and really gigantic b.o.o.bs."

"Lila," I chastised. But she had a point about the b.o.o.bs.

"That's another thing!" Lila spread her arms. "Why does it feel like we're all pregnant?" she cried. "I've never even had s.e.x! I don't want to be pregnant!"

I smirked. "Empathy. But, fact is, we aren't pregnant. We're just caring, trying to put ourselves in her place and understand what it would feel like."

"It would feel like I needed a much, much bigger bra," Lila said, her tone serious.

I admit it, I flopped back onto the bed and cracked up.

Eventually, Lila even smiled. Good sign.

When I'd settled down, I said, "It's one night. Who knows? We might actually learn things about Jennifer we wouldn't have otherwise."

"What, like she maintains a state-of-the-art torture chamber in her bas.e.m.e.nt?" Lila muttered. "I always suspected that anyway."

I giggled again. "No. Maybe we'll learn that the three of us are more alike than different."

A pause ensued, and the energy changed subtly.

"You really think so?" Lila asked, sounding vulnerable.

Just then the doorbell gonged.

I hugged my best friend toward me. "Looks like we're about to find out. Ready?"

Lila huffed out a non-laugh. "No."

"Bull. You're totally ready." I stood, tugging her up with me. "Focus on how special she's going to feel when we tell her about New York City."

"Wait!" Lila lunged and grabbed the hem of my T-shirt, stopping me.

"What now?"

Her eyes searched mine, darting back and forth. "Where did that whole 'olive branch' saying start anyway?" she asked, as though the question were vitally important to our next move. "I mean, I'd be much more amenable if someone brought me a pound of Dove chocolates or a bag of potato chips."

I shook my head. Lila's panic mode was so predictable. If there was a tangent available, she was going to take it. "It's traditionally a symbol of peace, but I'm not exactly sure. I think it's biblical. I don't know."

"You don't know?" Her eyes bugged with pure panic. "What do you mean you don't know? You always know everything!"

"No, I don't." I smacked her on the upper arm. "But, if it makes you feel better, I'll do some research, okay? I'll do it tonight, on your computer."

She released a breath as if I'd just solved every problem of the whole summer-her dad and Chloe, Jennifer and the baby, world peace, and how Burger Wonder could actually have a waiting list for people who wanted to work there-something we'd been puzzling over for months. "Okay. Thanks, Mer. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Meds, I thought. But I was only kidding. "Well, you'll never have to find out, okay? Because we're going to be best friends forever."

The doorbell gonged again.

I raised my eyebrows. "Now or never, Lila."

"Right." She blew out a breath. "I'm better. Now."

As we bopped down the stairs, I tweaked her waist. "You baked her a cake," I teased, in a singsong voice.

"Shut up," Lila said, but a smile flickered at the edges of her mouth. "I told you not to comment."

"That was then, this is now."

She scoffed. "It doesn't mean anything. It's just what you do on someone's birthday."

"Yes," I said, pinning her with a knowing look. "But usually only for someone you like."

For once, Lila didn't have a reply.

Caressa As I threw my head back and laughed over something Thomas said, I realized that if I'd learned one thing during this NYC summer, it was that you can't plan the future.

You can set goals and work toward them, but fate's always lurking stage left ready to switch up the ch.o.r.eography at the last second, just to see if you have the guts to dance your way through the unfamiliar steps.

To prove my point, I'd planned on Just Saying No to all things male this summer in order to work on my goal of securing a post-grad job with the show (and recover from the humiliation of crushing on a guy who was way too old for me).

It was to be a me summer. A girl summer.

I hadn't planned on Thomas-my ultimate pal, advisor on all mystical things male, and protector. Or my friends from the show: Dmitri-a dancer (who secretly harbored the Biggest Crush Ever on Thomas), Kennedy-an actor who'd also become a friend (although I suspect he was initially interested in more than just friendship with me), and of course, Brandon, my snarky screenwriter neighbor buddy.

Mostly, I hadn't expected Joaquin.

He'd become way more than a friend. Mindblowing, I know.

The last thing I wanted this summer was a boyfriend, much less a serious one. And yet, now, I can't imagine starting the show without a break-a-leg kiss for Joaquin, or hugging him after he leaves the stage for the last time each show, sweaty, panting, and breathtakingly beautiful. I can't imagine missing out on those times spent alone with him in his arms either...

My tummy did a crocodile death roll at the mere thought.

In fact, I couldn't even think about saying good-bye to him at the end of the summer, which was rushing up on me like a high-speed train. As much as I wanted to be back with my friends and family, I also wanted to be with Joaquin. So much. Forever. And I couldn't do both-bottom line.

The six of us guys-Thomas, Dmitri, Kennedy, Brandon, Joaquin, and I-occupied a table at our favorite by-the-slice pizza joint in Chelsea after a show that commanded three curtain calls and earned a deafening standing ovation. As had become our habit, we shared pizza, great conversation, huge belly laughs, and, as far as Joaquin and I were concerned, private, promising romantic looks and a little hand-holding under the table. Perfection.

Still, who'd have thought I would be spending all my time with five guys? The summer had morphed from a "Caressa-focused" plan to a full-on "hanging with the boys" situation. Me? Part of a tight-knit posse of males?