Page 59 of Never Not Friends

EMMA

The second Hess and Camila’s taillights disappear around the corner of the club, Carly’s hands go out as if she can stop them. “Wait!” She takes a quick second to count us. “There’s five of us. What kind of Uber did you order?”

Juliet shrugs. “Just a regular one.”

“Shoot,” Carly says. “Nate and I should’ve gotten a ride with Camila.”

“It’s fine.” Juliet waves the problem away. “I’m sure we can all fit.”

Vinny points to her phone. “Or we could just cancel that Uber and get a bigger one.”

She looks down at the open app. “No, he’s literally pulling up right now.”

The bass from the club pulses through the brick wall behind us while people spill onto the sidewalk around us. My feet hurt. My ears are ringing. And the sweaty dance floor officially turned my straight hair into something frizzy and embarrassing.

I just want to go home, but Juliet made a special birthday cake for me, like she always does, and so we’re headed back to her place to blow out candles.

At least it’s only ten forty-five, not two a.m. I can handle that.

A black BMW pulls up.

Juliet checks her phone. “That’s ours.”

Carly’s brows lower. “What are we going to do?”

“Fit,” Juliet says as she waves the car down.

“I don’t think they’re allowed to take more passengers than seatbelts.” Nate frowns.

“Come on. We’re going three miles. It will be fine.” She opens the passenger door.

I hear the driver say her name.

“Yep! That’s me.” She leans down to see him, putting on her bubbliest smile to win his favor.

“Wait.” He must’ve counted us.

“We’re only going a few miles. Like, four minutes away,” she explains.

“I can only take four passengers.”

I glance at Vinny, both of us knowing Juliet is not giving up that easily.

“I know, but it’s my best friend’s birthday.”

Someone behind us lays on their horn because our Uber driver stopped beneath a no-parking sign.

“Happy birthday to your friend, but I still can only take four passengers.”

Another horn blares.

The driver looks in his rearview mirror.

Juliet leans farther through the open door. “Please? We’ll squeeze. Four minutes. I promise.”

“Juliet,” I start, “we can just order another⁠—”

HONK.