**A want to hit a club. Permission?**

My stomach twisted at the message, and before I could react, Lysander’s response appeared on the screen.

**No!**

Anger simmered under my skin, a familiar but maddening sensation. I passed the phone to Ava, who rolled her eyes and huffed. “I can’t believe his nerve. Does he think we’re twelve?”

Kim’s eyes flickered to us through the rearview mirror, catching the edge of our frustration. “Did Lysander reply?”

I ...