“Don’t encourage him,” I grumble, smoothing my hands over my dress. I haven’t worn a dress since eighth grade, so this feels unnatural. “I was trying to get him to leave it here.”

“No way,” Pops calls from the other room. “You’re going to win all the awards, and we’re going to capture every minute of it.”

“Make sure you clear the camera after today,” I say, walking down the stairs and toward Dad. “Knowing you, you’ll forget and we’ll meet Lin-Manuel Miranda and you’ll miss it because your camera is full.”

It’ll be the first summer we spend in New York in the longest time. The idea is that we’re “spending time with family,” but I’m pretty sure I can get Dave to take me wherever I want. I’m looking forward to dragging him to Broadway.

“Don’t joke like that,” Dad says, frowning. “I can use my phone.”

“But will your phone capture the moment in high definition?”

“Simone,” Claudia says. She’s wearing a tuxedo-looking top and a pair of pants. I almost wish I’d followed her lead. “Your dad deals with all your foolishness, give him a break.”

“Thank you, Claudia,” Dad says, pausing. “I think.”

The doorbell rings, echoing throughout the house. Dad moves to answer it, but I grab his arm, smiling up at him.

“I can get it, Dad,” I say. “You should take more pictures of Claudia and Lydia.”

“Nice,” Claudia calls. “Already abandoning us.”

“I’m not,” I argue, pulling open the door. Miles is there, wearing his lacrosse jersey again. “Dude, if you were going to wear that, I wouldn’t have worn this.”

“I was gonna change, actually,” he says, giving me his stupid grin. He tugs at the strap on his shoulder, and I glance down at the gigantic bag hanging off his side. “Is that okay, Madam Director?”

“Yeah, whatever.” I roll my eyes, but when Dad’s head is turned, I kiss his cheek. “You can change in my room. I have something for you, anyway.”

“Wait, don’t you have a policy for boys coming over?” Lydia asks, folding her arms. “I don’t think that the two of you should be alone.”

“I hate you,” I say, brushing past her. “I should remind your dad to take pictures of you when prom comes around. We’ll call him.”

“You wouldn’t,” she says, glaring at me.

“Lydia is right,” Dad says, raising a brow. “Door open, Simone.”

“He’s changing, Dad.”

“So you don’t need to be in there, do you?”

I sigh, pulling Miles up the stairs with me. He laughs as I drag him into my room, keeping the door open just a crack.

“Do you actually want me to change?” he asks. “Because I can make it interesting, if you wanna watch.”

I try not to blush—it’s probably no use—and cross my arms.