“Roy and I got engaged on Bonfire Night,” Wendy told him. “On top of Primrose Hill.” It seemed like a hundred years ago, or it could have been yesterday. She sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. I’ve been in quite a state all day.”

“Here.”

Dr. Conway handed her a gummy lozenge. Wendy put it in her mouth. She’d decided to succumb to everything tonight.

“I just bought a new banjo,” Greg said. Damn these fireworks. Was he talking too loudly? Could Stuart Little hear him at all? With his noise-canceling headphones on it was impossible to tell. “There’s a store in Nashville I like to order from. They’ll let you try any instrument for a week, free.”

“Cool.”

Greg had invited Stuart to check out the instruments and recording equipment in his Gowanus basement. They walked up Kane Street toward Court, away from the schoolyard, while fireworks continued to burst overhead.

I bet Ted is loving this, Stuart thought. He assumed Mandy had taken Ted home. He’d texted her to let her know what he was doing and wasn’t surprised when she didn’t text back. They were both still pretty mad at each other.

Greg was walking quickly. The fireworks seemed to cause him pain.

“Wait up,” Stuart called. He wished he’d found his skateboard.

Shy and Liam had spent a lot of time beneath her sheet, reading the hilarious step-by-step instructions inside Liam’s battered box of Costco condoms without actually using any of them. They still had on their underwear and most of their clothes. Shy was sure that at any minute her parents were going to bang on the door and ask her to do something completely unnecessary like put the kettle on or rake the leaves. The fireworks were over. Laughter and pot smoke wafted up from the garden.

“I’m starving,” Liam said from beneath the sheet.

“Me too,” Shy agreed.

“Do you think your parents would mind if we ordered pizza?”

Shy threw off the sheet and reached for her phone.

“I smell something,” Mandy said when the fireworks had finally ceased.

“I bet you do,” Peaches said. “A bunch of stupid private school teenage assholes including my own son burned this place up last month. It still smells like burning rubber.”

How much longer would she have to stand here, waiting for Mandy to get out of the tunnel and go home? There were stars now. The air was cold and clear. She sniffed, then sniffed again, her nose raised like a dog catching a scent.

“Actually, I smell meatloaf. And caramel popcorn. And chocolate cake.”

“You just described my entire Grandma’s House order,” Mandy said from inside the tunnel. “Minus the mashed potatoes and spinach salad. Hey, does anyone have any Fritos?”