Rachel continued to glare at me with the unmistakable expression of someone deeply annoyed.

"You’re such a bad girl."
"Yeah, I am," I responded without hesitation, immediately cringing at my own overly dramatic reply.

What kind of cheap soap opera moment was this? Rachel’s glare intensified, like she was ready to devour me alive.

"Ever since I came back, you’ve only been messing around with other girls, haven’t you?"
"Hey, what do you expect? It’s been 100 years. Think about how many times we did it back then—thousands, easily. There wasn’t a single day when the library wasn’t …