Okay, now Chase was effing depressed and pissed. “You know the answer to most of those, but what in the hell does that have to do with this stupid Square One bullshit? You want me to have a sleepover? Dress up like a princess? If you say I have to wear a fucking diaper, I’m so out on this.”

Olivia actually laughed. “No diapers.”

“So, what? What’s the deal?”

“Adulting.”

“Adulting? Like how to figure a checkbook or make a meat loaf?” Chase made a face, irritation at the thought of something so asinine clawing with impatience at her insides.

“That’s sort of the idea.”

“How in the hell is that going to work? Makes no sense. Please tell me you have something more than me learning to fold a fitted sheet in mind. ’Cause, dude, that’s what housekeepers are for.” Even as she said those words, she knew how she sounded. Self-absorbed. Entitled. Like a not-so-nice person.

Well, wasn’t everyone a little not so nice?

“Listen to you,” Olivia said with a smile.

“What? I mean, I know I don’t know how to do some stuff. Lots of people don’t know how to do lots of things. Whatever.”

“It’s the whatever I’m after, Chase. I know you think it’s silly, but you need to know yourself better in the real world, with real people, doing real things that matter.”

“Making movies doesn’t matter? Because it does.”

“Of course it does. I’m not saying that what you do is easy. I’m saying that your career—pretending to be someone else and then living a life among chauffeurs, personal shoppers, and sycophants—skews your perception of who you are and what your purpose in life is.”

Chase folded her arms, and even though she felt super defensive about the things Olivia was saying, she knew there was truth within the words. She still didn’t know how learning how to do “adult” things was going to help her fight her demons. That seemed like throwing a handful of sand on a forest fire. Or some other euphemism she couldn’t quite grasp at the moment. Maybe that was another thing she didn’t know how to do—make comparisons that made sense.

So for the next half hour, Chase watched the trees, sky, and an occasional logging truck or car pass by. Eventually she started seeing houses, a gas station, and cell phone repair shops. Which reminded her . . .

“When will I get my phone back?” Chase asked.

“When you can pay the bill.”

“I do pay the bill.”

Olivia pulled into the parking lot of a small grocery store that looked sort of low rent and turned to her. “Do you?”