“I’ll see you at school, H,” Evie says, shaking her head and signaling that it’s time for me to join Corinne outside. “And, er, maybe wrap up the field trip?”

“Right. On it.”

I close her door as gently as possible and imagine the end of this evening if I somehow hadn’t found myself chained to a Troy boulder.

I text a quick SORRY to Evie, which goes unanswered. Next, Corinne and I pull Ming out of a college-abyss chat with Abdel, making up some lie about Ming being my ride home. The three of us head for the nearest subway stop. When I ignore her, Corinne, of course, details the entire trauma to Ming, who is utterly delighted.

“I can’t believe I missed that to hear about Abdel’s travel plans! Next time, please film it,” he says, cackling so loud a woman with grocery bags glares at us from a few rows back. “A video of Haltiwanger with his pants down could crash a few internet servers.”

“Jesus, who raised you?”

“A very nice Jewish couple.” Ming smiles, getting up at 34th Street. “Thanks for an eventful night, Cori. We definitely have to do it again.”

Corinne seems to have something to say and stands up after Ming as the subway doors open.

“Um . . .”

“Yes?”

“Thanks for letting me come along.”

Ming looks at me and then smiles at her. “Of course. Next time, I’ll stick with you in case you walk into Henri emergency trimming his nose hair in the guest bathroom or something.”

One time, and it was a false alarm. Did I mention I hate Ming?

“He’s very nice. I really am sorry,” Corinne says as she sits down and the train starts moving again. “I’ve apologized seventeen times. Ballpark figure: how many more until you say something?”

“It’s fine.” I sigh. “You had no way of knowing.” She really does seem remorseful.

“So, is Evie Hooper your girlfriend?” Corinne asks, which prompts me to take out my phone. I’m certainly not having this conversation now.

“We’re not discussing it.”

“Fair enough. God, it’s not just social life–wise, is it?” she continues. “I’m stunted on every level.”

“You’re not stunted.” I sigh. “It’s perfectly natural to be, y’know . . . curious.”

Corinne’s eyebrows seem to take great offense at that. “I meant in terms of personal experience. I know what sex is!” she says. “I can draw and label the human reproductive system from memory.”

“Not quite the same.”

“Not to mention the amount of porn I stream is almost fraternity house level.”

I almost choke, wishing Ming was still around to bear witness to Corinne Troy casually mentioning the volume of porn she consumes.

“It’s always ethically made, and I only look for female directors, thank you very much,” she says, crossing her arms. “Now who’s the prude?”

Who is this girl?