“Do you have an older brother, Lulu?”

“Sister.”

“Do you steal her clothes?”

“I would,” Lulu says. “If they weren’t so boring.”

She deliberately dressed down tonight, trying to find something that felt bohemian-hipster enough for Silver Lake without making it too obvious to Cass that she was doing anything different. It seemed like an experiment, after their conversation a few days ago: What does she want to wear? Can she separate it from what she thinks she’s supposed to wear? Lulu isn’t sure she pulled it off on either count.

“Mmmm,” Dylan says. “Attitude. Well, I see why you and Cass get along, I guess. You guys in for dinner?”

“What are you doing?”

“Ordering in from Pine and Crane,” Dylan says. “Plus there’s beer, if you’re not scared of Mom coming down and seeing.”

“What do you think, Lu? Chinese food with cinema bros? There’s also a lot of great places around here—some really good Malaysian on Sunset, or there’s poke, or, like, I don’t know, what are you in the mood for?”

Lulu tries to imagine sitting across a restaurant table from Cass—interrupting their conversation to order and whenever a water glass gets refilled, trying to figure out what to eat and how much, making small talk in the car on the way there and back. It’s so temptingly, terrifyingly date-like.

She chickens out.

“Chinese sounds good,” she says. “If that’s okay with you.”

“I’m always happy to mooch off of Dyl.”

“I’m stealing the shirt back while you sleep tonight,” he tells her.

“You’re welcome to try. But I’m not stupid. I’m not taking it off my body until you go back to school.”

A couple of Dylan’s friends drift in, carrying six-packs of beer with brand names Lulu doesn’t recognize. Dinner arrives, and it’s a mess of high-end Chinese food that smells so good Lulu almost forgets how bad she is at eating with chopsticks. She’s thrilled when Cass grabs a fork and says, “C’mon, let’s go eat on the front porch, away from these animals.”

They settle into chairs there, plates balanced precariously on their knees. The sun has already sunk behind the hillside across from them, a last golden glow lingering above their jagged tops, turning their silhouettes flat black.

“This is nice,” Lulu says. “The view.”

“It’s why my parents bought the place,” Cass says. “My mom hates that we’re so high up—makes walking anywhere a pain—but she couldn’t say no to this.”

“Where are they?” Lulu asks. “Your parents.”

“Mom’s in her office, upstairs,” Cass says. “Dad’s probably still at work? Don’t worry, you won’t have to do some awkward meet-the-parents thing. They stay out of our way, pretty much, which is nice.”