That was when David clocked her. How can you be so beautiful? she thought.

Fleetingly, she realized she also missed the Arnold house. You don’t have friends like you here, do you?

Then: Is this girl really like me?

Then: “Sorry. What?”

“What’s your name?” said the girl.

The girl looked sad as she said it, like she knew when these conversations were lost before they began. But then David said, “Vera.” It had come to her last night. A stranger with that name had commented on a Facebook thread, and she went, There it is. And now it was just out of her mouth. It had just happened.

She added, “But everyone knows me as—”

“—I know,” the girl interrupted. “It’s okay. Vera’s nice. I’m Zoe.”

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Enjoying the party?”

“No,” said Zoe. “I just live here.”

“Do you know if Ridwan is coming? I’m starting to think they won’t show.”

“I wouldn’t come if I didn’t live here either.”

Vera laughed. “I just wish they’d told me. If you’re backing out, that’s fine, but then tell me, you know?”

“They’ve got anxiety,” Zoe said politely. “Sometimes it gets bad for them. I know that can be frustrating for a friend, but that won’t change what they deal with.”

For a second, Vera was annoyed. Her first thought was: So?! They’ve got anxiety? I’ve got anxiety! Should I expect anyone to care about me every time I’m fucked up—

Her next thought was: Oh. Huh.

“Fair enough.” Vera rubbed her face. “I could be nicer about it.”

Zoe raised her glass of milk. “Rarely hurts.”

Then, suddenly, an arm went around Vera’s neck and a voice yelled, “You bitch!” Vera screamed, and then saw it was Iris.

“Why didn’t I know you’d be here?” Iris said.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Vera hugged her. “This is Iris,” she deadpanned to Zoe. “Iris, Zoe.”

“Enchanté,” Iris said. “What are you two up to? I was gonna smoke.” She waved to the fire escape. “Join me.”

“I like this new hybrid body,” Iris whispered again that night into Vera’s ear, leaning over and thrusting onto her. “I like.”

“Thank you,” Vera said automatically, like a robot. Moonlight from the window lit the bottom of Iris’s face, the top half covered in shadow.

Iris tried to jerk Vera off, but “tried” was the operative word.

“Oh …” Vera said. “That just happens a lot now. Hormones. They. They don’t do nothing, you know.”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” Iris said crossly. “But this didn’t happen the other night?”

She went down on Vera, or at least tried to, and Vera felt herself leave her body, detach in a way that suddenly reminded her of—

“Sorry,” she said, scooting up. “I don’t think. If we’re gonna do this. You can’t touch me there.”

“Oh,” Iris cooed, “I think we gave that up a long time ago.”

“I’m serious.”

Iris lifted her head. She was drunk. “You’re really gonna …?” She looked so very confused.