Nicole snorted as she cocked an eyebrow at Zoey. "Deets, Zo? Are you watching ABC Family again?"

"No," she answered quietly, looking away before sighing in resignation. She was a terrible liar. "Yes! Okay, I have been. They have entertaining programming! Leave me alone."

About a year and a half ago, Zoey had broken up with her long time boyfriend, Blake, because he said he "had it" with her profession, and then continued on tearing her a new one. Our little ray of sunshine and love got really depressed, and somehow ended up spending two straight weeks watching everything and anything on ABC Family. I tried to explain to her that real teenagers didn't say things like "L.O.L" and "L.M.A.O" when they talked in person but it took us months to break her out of the lingo she picked up.

Secretly, I watched a couple of shows on there every once in awhile, but I would take that to the grave with me.

"Oh lord," I huffed to myself, because I knew they wouldn't give a shit whether I wanted to share or not. "I just helped Tristan wash the hair color out. That's it."

"Wait. Tristan?" Zoey asked.

Only the top half of Nicole's face could be seen in the mirror, but I knew her expressions well enough to know she was confused. "I thought he was Robby Lingus?"

"Tristan is Robby Lingus, dumb and dumber." I said with a roll of my eyes.

"Huh," Nikki whispered to herself. "And Tristan is the guy who caught you pulling out your wedgie?"

Zoey started giggling as she turned in the seat to look at me face to face. "I can’t believe you did that in front of Robby Lingus.”

I snapped the seatbelt in. "Why are both of you calling him by his entire name anyway? That's stupid."

"You never call Andrew Wood just Andrew, asshole." Nicole said, and she was right, I didn't. I mean, I could just call him Andrew but he wasn't just any Andrew, he was Andrew Wood. Nikki started reversing out of the parking spot, making funny noises from the front seat. "I knew black wasn't his natural hair color," she mumbled. "You really didn't know who he was?"

"Nope. I just thought he was some guy." The more I said and thought that, the more it genuinely bothered me. It seemed to be that everyone knew who Robby Lingus was except me. It wasn't like I watched porn all the time, but still. This was exactly like the time everyone else knew not to drink from the punch bowl except me, and I ended up drunk off my ass.

"He's really nice, Kat. I've met him a couple of times in passing." Zoey said in a cheerful voice, her gray eyes still peering at me through the visor mirror. "Did he ask you for your phone number or anything?"

Part of me felt like such a fucking loser, while the other half was relieved. The loser half was disappointed he didn't make an effort to at least try to build a friendship with me, because I thought maybe he sensed that we got along really well, but maybe he was just that nice and funny to everyone? He probably was. The other part of me was relieved that he didn't ask me for my number, or even make an effort to give me that idea. I was an only child, I didn't know how to share and I wasn't willing to learn. What was I going to do if I started developing feelings for a porn star? I already felt mopey about the situation after just three talks.

"Nope."

Zoey frowned, flipping the visor up. "Well, whatever. You don't need any real dick as long as you have batteries."

"Oh yeah, thanks for that smooth move, Zo. Real smooth." I groaned, reminding her of the embarrassing outburst over by the booths.

She gasped, and I saw her throw a hand over the left side of her face. "I'm sorry, Kat!"