“You’re freaking me out,” Lonnie said as she dropped her dress to the ground with a nonchalance that annoyed me. Disrobing in front of this boy was too much—how desperate for attention could she be? We’d been away from the city and her men for only three days.

She was wearing a little white thing we used to call a training bra, though I now saw them in stores for women—two triangles of lacy fabric that concealed the state of one’s nipples but did nothing in terms of support. She wrapped her scantily clad body up in a towel and said, “Well, Alex doesn’t trust us, but we found a kneecap in the lake that apparently might be from a victim of some local serial killer so I think there’s nothing left to do but contact some spirits.”

We set up the board on the living room floor and Alex built a fire in the fireplace. Each of us put four fingers on the planchette. Lonnie touched Alex’s hand. “Lightly,” she said. “You don’t even really have to touch it, just hover your fingers over.”

We followed her instructions. The pads of my fingertips barely brushed the plastic. “No laughing,” Lonnie said to Alex, though he wasn’t even smiling. “It’s not a game. It’s not a joke.”

“Of course not,” Alex said. “Though it’s manufactured by Hasbro. It’s not a game.”

Lonnie turned to me. “We’re going to have to do this after he’s gone, aren’t we?”

“Boys never take it seriously,” I said, flashing Alex a disdainful glance.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll be serious. What can we ask? Let’s just do it.”

Lonnie gave him one last doubtful glance, and then looked down at the board. She let out a deep sigh, which unraveled the fold of her towel over her breasts, but she didn’t move her fingers. She didn’t seem to notice. “Are there any spirits in this room?” she asked. “If anyone’s here, please feel free to contact us. This is a safe space. We’re only here to talk.”

I tried to draw my attention away from Lonnie’s body, onto the board, tried to concentrate on her words. I thought, even if nothing happened, even if the Ouija board was not a means of communicating with the other side, Lonnie would still be able to tell I wasn’t trying.

“Give us a sign you’re here,” she said.

The game piece veered left suddenly and all of us jumped. Lonnie smiled, exhaled. “Good,” she said. “Thank you, we’re so happy you’re here. Can you tell us what you’d like us to call you?”

The planchette moved to the letter “S” and stopped.

“Okay,” Lonnie said. “S.”