“Oh my god, Siri, you exploded! I watched my own self, who was you, explode into a dust cloud, and it basically gave me a heart attack. Can you hear me? That image is gonna be burned into my mind for the rest of time, so you better be okay. Are you okay? Are you?!”

“I can’t see,” she wheezes. “But I’m thinking it worked.” She wheezes again.

I squint, trying to bat away the glitter in the air. I let go of one of her arms and drag her in the direction of the bathroom. We both come to a halt in front of the mirror when I flip on the light.

It did work. Siri is her actual self. Her hair has still been bleached gray-blond, but it’s way less frizzy than it was when she was me. Glitter coats her skin and clothes, but she is her. She runs her hands over her face and chest and arms as she inspects herself in the mirror. My eyes slide over to my own reflection.

And I’m Siri as well. With a braid.

My chest tightens.

Siri turns to me, grabbing my arm. “Share something, Jamie, so we can get ready. We only have like an hour.”

I don’t know what to share. “I’ve been … talking to Zarar every day. And seeing him. Every day in New York.”

Siri leads me to the toilet. “Sit down. Are you two going to continue seeing each other?”

I shake my head no, staring at my knees, an unbelievable sadness rushing through me. I hate all these feelings.

“Long distance doesn’t work,” I say flatly.

“How does that make you feel…” Siri prompts.

“I don’t know, Sier.” I throw up my hands and let them fall.

She sighs. “I’m trying to help you. How do you feel about you and me?” She walks out of the bathroom and comes back with my makeup kit.

The toilet is making my ass cold. It’s cold in this hotel room.

“I’m looking forward to not being you anymore,” I say. “I want my life back.”

Siri starts painting makeup over my right eye. “I have an idea. You could read the miracle exercise we did that day at Rediscover with Donya.”

“No, thanks,” I snap.

“Do you want to be stuck like this forever?”

I blow out the most aggravated, annoying, Siri-esque sigh of my career, as she refreshes her brush and comes back toward my face with it. “Fine. You want to know how I feel about you?”

“Yes.”