"I am going to kill that son-of-a-bitch!" Sully and I exchange bewildered looks as Hartley paces in front of her house, a lit cigarette dangling from the corner of her lips. "Who the hell does he think he is?"

"Who're you talking about?" I ask.

She stops. "Nick, of course!"

Now I'm totally confused. "I thought you and Nick are currently 'off again'," I say, using air quotes. "That's what you said."

She rolls her eyes and blows a stream of smoke toward the sky. "We are. But that doesn't give him the right to see other people!"

"Actually, that's exactly what it means." Sully chuckles loud enough for me to hear but not Hartley. And it's a good thing, because she doesn't appear to be in a chuckley sort of mood.

"How could he do this to me?" She stares at her neighbor. "I need your car."

He shakes his head. "You don't have a driver's license."

"I have my temps."

But Sully's not phased. Living next door, I guess he's used to her outbursts. "That's not the same thing and you know it."

"I guess you'll have to drive me then." Hartley stomps off in the direction toward Sully's SUV, pausing briefly to look over her shoulder. "Are you two coming, or not?"

"And where, exactly, are we going?" Sully gives me another look before following after her. Oscar must sense the excitement. He dances around our feet, tugging at his leash.

Hartley doesn't bother to turn around. "Melanie saw Nick with Skyler Malone at that new Cajun seafood restaurant by the country club." She spits this information out as it's sour on her tongue. "Skyler Malone of all people. That tramp has slept with half of the wrestling team! Probably the football team, too. He could have at least cheated on me with someone decent!"

"He's not cheating on you," Sully reminds her. "You broke up with him. Remember?"

When we reach Sully's car, Hartley whips around to face us, her bottom lip trembling. She takes a long drag on her cigarette and exhales. "But we always break up, and then we get back together again. That's the way we work."

By the look on his face, I can tell Sully's conflicted. "What do you plan to do if you find them?"

"Easy." She doesn't miss a beat. "First, I'm going to kill Nick, and then I'm going to kill Skyler."

"The last time I checked, murder's still illegal in Louisiana," Sully says, letting out a breath. "You'd be thrown in jail for the rest of your life."

"I don't care if they send me to the guillotine!" A shimmer of tears gather in the corners of her eyes. "My life isn't worth living if Nick's not a part of it."

"Are you serious, right now?" I can't keep the shock from my voice. There are few things worse than watching your best friend make a total fool of herself. "You've barely mentioned Nick this entire week, and now you're acting like him going out with What's-Her-Name is the end of the world!"

"Her name's Skyler."

"You're missing the point!" I scowl. "You're not actually going to confront them, are you?"

"Hell yes, I'm going to confront them! Nick and I have a very complicated relationship, Gwen. I wouldn't expect you to understand. It's not like you've ever been in one before."

Her comment stings like a slap in the face. I wait a beat, try to squash the hurt from creeping in. "Maybe not. But one thing I do understand is that it's not normal to chase after an ex-boyfriend when he's on date with another girl. You're acting like a stalker."

"Like I said," her eyes narrow, "you wouldn't understand."

My gaze drops to my toes and I sense Sully staring at me. "Let me just take Oscar inside," he says. "I'll be back in a minute."

Hartley and I wait in silence for him to return, neither one of us looking at the other. She takes one last inhale then tosses her cigarette to the ground before stomping it out. A moment later, we're sitting in the SUV, Hartley riding shotgun just like the other day. And here I thought I was Sully's date.

Alone in the backseat, I dive into my thoughts as conversation from the front hovers at a steady minimum. I love my friend, but it's obvious she's changed over the past couple of years. She's always been impulsive, but never like this. She's like a ticking bomb ready to explode. I'm not happy either, but I don't take my frustrations out on everyone else. It's as if she's forgotten how to handle her emotions. Which is weird since I know she's been in therapy since her dad passed away.

"Gwen?"

I look up and find Sully staring at me through the rear-view mirror. He's obviously waiting for an answer to a question I didn't hear. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Did you see the ship?" he asks, nodding his head toward the passenger window.

For the first time, I realize the Mississippi River is rolling alongside us. Just off the bank, an enormous cruise ship lets out a long wail, it's multi-colored lights bouncing off the darkening ripples as it moves away from shore. I scoot closer to the window to get a better look.

"Where do you think it's going?" I ask, letting myself forget the reason we're making this trip.

The idea of being on a ship that big has always fascinated me. There was a time—not long before Dad moved out—when my parents talked about taking me and Henry on a Disney cruise. I spent hours scouring the internet, Googling photographs people posted online. I could practically feel the sun beating down on my face as I imagined bending over the rail, looking over the endless blue sea.

But it never happened. Just one more disappointment to add to the list.

"I don't know." His eyes meet mine again in the mirror. "Maybe the Bahamas or Mexico."

I turn back, awed by the sight. Last month, Dad went on a "business trip" to Jamaica with his secretary. He bought me and Henry white T-shirts with the words: Jamaica—No Problem, Mon, embroidered across the front in red, yellow and green. I use it to clean my hermit crab tank.

Hartley shifts in her seat and points straight ahead. "There it is!"

Sully makes a sharp turn into the nearest driveway and maneuvers through the crowded parking lot, before stopping next to a shiny black muscle car at the end of the back row. There's a thick white stripe going down the center of the hood. "I really hate that car," he murmurs. "It's something only a douchebag would drive."

"Shut up, Sully." Hartley flips her blonde curls and steps outside. Without another word, we follow. "Should I go inside and confront them, or wait out here?"

Sully glances over his shoulder at the restaurant. "What are you hoping to accomplish?"

Negative energy rolls off her in waves. "I want to hurt him the way he's hurt me."

His face softens. "And you think attacking him in front of all those people will do that?"

She shrugs. "Maybe? Unless you have a better idea."

I answer for him. "I vote we go home." But Hartley doesn't even look my way. And it pisses me off because before I got her stupid text, Sully and I were on a date of our own. Or a pre-date, anyway.

"Gwen's right." Sully flashes me an apologetic smile and my stomach does a slow flip.

Hartley's arms cross over her chest as she stares at the restaurant. "We came here to make him pay, and now I need to figure out what I'm gonna do. God, I want to get him where it really hurts!"

Sully lets out a snort. "Like his balls?"

"Worse." An underhanded smile inches its way across her face. "Is your trunk unlocked?"

"It should be. Why?"

She doesn't answer. Instead she hurries to the rear of the SUV and opens the hatch.

Sully tries to force a wedge in between Hartley and the trunk. "Wait. What do you need a bat for?"

"I just figured out what would torture Nick most." She heads toward the black car with Sully's baseball bat cocked over her slender shoulder. He tries to pull her back but she shakes him away. "He loves this car more than anything in the whole world. It would kill him if anything happened to it."

My hands fly to my mouth. "Don't do it! You're going to get in trouble!"

My friend stops suddenly and deflates. "Shit. You're right."

And even though I'm upset that she's acting bat-shit crazy, she looks so defeated I feel bad.

"On second thought ..." With an unearthly strength, Hartley swings the bat and smashes it into the car's windshield, producing a spider web of cracks.

My stomach clenches as the car's alarm emits a deafening scream.

When Hartley assaults the window again the glass shatters into a million tiny pieces.

Sully grabs my arm and pulls me toward the SUV. "Come on, we have to go!"

My heart comes to a screeching halt as an enormous hand cups my shoulder. "Hold it right there, young lady. You're not going anywhere."