I was the first to arrive. Because it was early, the restaurant wasn’t too busy, and I scored a table. I pulled out my notebook and started taking detailed notes about the decor and atmosphere. The metal-topped tables were low, with small wooden stools that could be moved around anywhere. A sign told people that the seating was first come, first seated and asked diners to please vacate as soon as they’d finished eating, so that other people could sit. The floor of the restaurant was a light wood, as was the ceiling, and it all felt very modern and clean.

Along a counter where you could stand and eat, there were dispensers of different hot sauces, with small pleated cups to carry the sauce to your table. There were white china crocks filled with individually wrapped pairs of chopsticks, and napkin dispensers everywhere. Signs proclaimed that people needed to bus their own tables because YOUR MOM ISN’T HERE TO CLEAN UP AFTER YOU, which I thought was funny. The music was mellow hip-hop, and the people behind the counter were mostly teenagers. They seemed to be having fun together.

I made sure to jot down the entire menu, including drinks (mostly variations on iced tea), so I could refer to it in anything I wrote about the restaurant. I also noted the kinds of people who were there—mostly young people and not too many families.

It took me about ten minutes to write all this down, and when I finished, I looked at my phone. 6:08. I was so nervous that I suddenly wondered if I’d gotten the date or time wrong. But I had confirmed with Jeanie and Marina by text earlier in the day, I reminded myself. Had I gotten it wrong? Had I made a typo and set the date for the next day? I checked my phone just in case. Yup. Right time and day.

I wondered where they were. The restaurant was starting to fill up, and I wasn’t going to be able to hold the table for much longer. In fact, just then a woman gestured at the table and said, “Are you using all these seats?”

I shrugged. “I think so. Well, three of them. You can have the fourth?”

She shook her head. “No, I need two. Thanks.” And she wandered away. I felt embarrassed. 6:13. Should I call them? My imagination started going wild. Were they standing me up? Were we really even friends? Was this a… prank? I craned my head all around to see if they might be here, watching me and laughing, but no.

Stop, Allie. You’re being paranoid, I told myself. I looked at my phone. 6:15. Should I just call my dad to come get me now? My stomach clenched in embarrassment. As I gripped my phone and stared at it, it suddenly rang.

“Allie! Oh my gosh, I’m so glad I reached you! It’s Jeanie. Listen.…” She was all out of breath and talking fast. “Marina’s mom had a fender bender on her way here—”