Dawn looks over at me. “Your smile is like stunning,” she says. “You’re usually stunning, you look like an old Hollywood movie star from the fifties. But I haven’t seen you smile-smile, with your whole face, yet, and it’s like … wow.”

My heart’s still dancing to “Bad Guy” in my chest. I look down at my hands. “Any pitches are more than welcome.”

“I’ve already got one. Scale of one to ten, how do you feel about becoming a food influencer?”

I chuckle. “Three.”

“Wow, harsh. Okay, I see you. I’ll keep on it.”

The light turns green.

“It’s weird,” Dawn starts. “At first this all freaked me out to the tenth degree because I thought you were some creepy Jamie clone … I mean the projection magic that made you look exactly like her is batshit. I’m just going to ignore the fact that that’s a thing because…” She holds out a hand and waves it around frantically. “Nope, I can’t.”

“Anyway,” Dawn continues slowly, almost like she’s thinking aloud rather than speaking to me. “The more we hang out, the less you remind me of Jamie. You’re taller and willowy-er and you move so differently. You have this grace that’s almost inhuman. You don’t walk, you … glide, like they try to make Sandra Bullock do in Miss Congeniality.

“Your skin is so milky, your eyebrows are completely different, they’re wonderful, by the way, bold as hell with your new gray-blond hair. Your nails are super clean. And you’re like buff as hell.” Dawn swallows.

I look down at my knees, feeling like an electric switch has flipped on under my skin. That’s a lot of noticing. Almost like how I’ve been noticing, except reverse. I feel so noticed by the kindest, most beautiful girl in the universe.

“And I mean, that’s just on the outside,” she adds quickly. “From the first moment you got here, you were completely different in demeanor and personality. You are completely the opposite end of the spectrum … and…” She trails off and clears her throat. “The place is coming up. We’re only like a block away so I’m going to take this spot.”

I don’t know what she was going to say there, but it didn’t feel negative.

Dawn steps back onto the sidewalk to admire the building. I step back with her.

“What do you think?” She joyfully throws her hands in the direction of the door. The place is very minimalist-looking, very … white with plants and vines as decor and a select neon sign that says ULOR’S GOURMET ICE CREAM.

“I think that’s one LA-looking ice cream place.” I giggle.

She gasps and carefully bumps me with her side. “This place is everything. Give her a chance, Ms. Maza.”

A giddy buzz zips through me. “Aren’t we going to get pizza?”

“Yeah.” She grins without moving.