“This!” a white boy sporting a crew cut shouted, reloading a YouTube video. A small hole formed in the huddle. Zed stepped in, focusing on the computer screen. The screen was black, but the sound of helicopter propellers was unmistakable. Ten seconds went by. Zed turned and looked at her peers. Their faces were brimming with anticipation, poised for something they knew was coming. Zed pivoted back toward the computer screen. The blackness continued for a full minute then suddenly vanished, a column of light materializing from nowhere, a big bang. Zed continued watching, anxious to see how the video ended. It was clearly footage from the tag. The crew cut boy started to snicker, followed by the tall white girl.

Eventually everyone was laughing, and the light gave way to a picture of Kanye West. “Flashing…lights, lights,” everyone in the room started murmuring, backed by the video, which was now sampling the song. “I don’t get it,” Zed confessed.

“It’s just a mash-up video I made making fun of this whole Stone Mountain shit,” the boy informed her. “The whole thing is silly. Some asshole just committed arson. It’s way more simple than people are allowing it to be. I’m already at four hundred thousand views!”

“So you’re saying it’s arson when someone carves a letter into a mountain?” Zed asked.

“It was probably already there. Stonewall Jackson is very well-respected in Civil War circles. My dad’s into that shit.”

Zed immediately left the room, her anger materializing as sweat as she headed toward the kitchen. Theo and Apollo were sweating even harder, dancing in place on gleaming hardwood floors. Zed couldn’t recall the name of the dance, but she was sure she’d seen it online. Standing at the edge of the kitchen, she watched their bodies awkwardly jerk, imperiously directed by the thin marionette strings of the dance’s savvy inventors. This was a dance that could only be learned through piecemeal imitation, one viral video frame at a time.

“The Kiki!” Zed declared to herself, remembering the dance’s name.

“Ki, ki, ki, ki,” she watched Apollo chant as he swaggered about, swaying in place while rolling his shoulders back and slapping his upper back. He looked like he was honing a single step of the Macarena. Theo met Zed’s eyes then ducked out of the kitchen.

“What are you guys doing here?” Zed asked Apollo, entering the kitchen and placing a firm hand on his shoulder. He immediately stiffened.

“Looking for some friends.”

“Did you find them?”

“I think so.”

“Did they want to be found?”

“Didn’t get to ask.”

“Why not?”

“Phone problems.”

Zed smirked. Apollo continued. “I saw your tweets. Why are you guys at a party where the host is someone that Sol uppercutted?”