We’d finally decided to go with the nuclear option—Palmer telling both of them that she and Tom had broken up and that she needed to see them at once. Palmer had knocked on every piece of wood on the bus afterward, convinced she was somehow jinxing her relationship by lying about it. But we knew this was the only thing that would get both of them to agree. They’d figured out the ruse pretty quickly, but there’s not a whole lot you can do when you’re riding on a campaign bus that’s flying down the New Jersey Turnpike, with a driver who refuses to stop at the rest stops.

My dad had figured out that Palmer and I had been doing some creative embellishing but had only told me sternly that we’d talk about it when we got home and had gone to the front of the bus to sit with Walt, casting occasional glances into the back of the bus and shaking his head. I got the sense that I’d probably be grounded again in the near future.

But I also had the feeling, like on the night of the scavenger hunt when he got to drive like James Bond, that he was secretly enjoying this.

Bri and Toby were still refusing to talk to each other, and as the miles whipped by outside the window, I found myself getting more and more nervous. What if even getting them trapped in a space together wasn’t enough? What if we really weren’t going to be able to get past this?

“Guys,” Palmer said in her best reasonable voice, “Andie and I really think that if you just talk to each other . . .” Toby just shook her head, and Bri looked down at her hands.

“I mean, we’re stuck on a bus together,” I pointed out. “We might as well make the best of it.”

“We’re stuck on this bus because of you,” Toby snapped. “Don’t make it seem like it’s just a big coincidence.”

“I know,” I said, looking between them. “And I’m really sorry, guys. I truly am. I shouldn’t have interfered like I did. I just . . . wanted us to be okay.”

Toby let out a short, humorless laugh, and Bri stared hard out the window, neither one of them speaking.

Palmer and I exchanged a look, but there didn’t seem to be a ton to say after that. Silence fell, while I tried to think of a new approach we could take, something that would shake this up.

? ? ?

“Toby,” Bri said ten minutes later, breaking the silence. “Please just talk to me.”

Toby folded her arms tighter across her chest, and I saw Palmer take a breath, like she was about to jump in, but I caught her eye and shook my head, hoping that maybe, if we gave her enough space, she’d come around. “What do you want me to say?” Toby finally asked. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“You can’t . . . ,” Bri said, then stopped and tried again. “I never meant to hurt you, T. You have to know that. It was the last thing I wanted.”

“And yet,” Toby said, and I could hear the anger in her voice, the way she was biting off the ends of her words, “guess what happened. Gosh, who could have foreseen that totally bizarre occurrence?”

“I’m so sorry,” Bri said, and I could see that she was on the verge of tears. “I wish you would just listen to me—”

“So you can say what?” Toby snapped. “That you went ahead and did something you knew would break my heart, but you didn’t care enough about me to stop? Or even to tell me what was going on so I didn’t have to find out like that?”

“Tobe,” Palmer said, leaning toward her. “Maybe—”

“Although why am I even surprised?” Toby asked, shaking her head. “Of course this is happening to me. Of course not only can I not be with the guy I like, but he falls for my best friend.” She looked right at me, and I felt myself drawing back. “You don’t believe I’m cursed,” she said with a short, unhappy laugh, “but what the hell do you call this? I’m the only one of us in this situation. Everyone else is happy and in love with their perfect boyfriends, and I’m alone, just like I always am.” Toby’s voice broke, and she wrapped her arms around herself and looked out the window, her chin shaking.

“Well, Andie’s not,” Palmer said, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “That’s one of the reasons we’re going to New Jersey.”

“We’re going to New Jersey?” Toby asked, closing her eyes for just a moment. “Perfect.”

“Tell me what I can do,” Bri said, leaning across the table toward her, and I could see she was getting blotchy, the way she did when she was trying to stop herself from really crying. “There has to be something. We can’t just keep not talking like this. I miss you so much.”

I thought I saw something in Toby’s face soften for just a moment, but then it was gone. “Okay,” she said, turning to face Bri and folding her arms. “Are you still with Wyatt?”

“Toby,” I started, but she was already talking over me.

“Are you still sleeping with Wyatt?” she asked, and from the front of the bus, I heard my dad clear his throat and then start asking Walt very loud questions about the bus’s gas mileage.

“Look,” Bri said, leaning toward Toby. “If you’d just listen—”

“You want to be friends again?” Toby asked. “You want to stop fighting?”

“Yes,” Bri said, her eyes searching Toby’s face. “I do.”