It was as though her room were a vortex, one of those tourist traps where trees grew at strange, unnatural angles and clocks went haywire trying to keep good time.

Friday night, lying in bed, her skin against mine, I felt a buzzing, faint, in the distance—a vague sense I’d forgotten something.

“Holy shit,” Phoebe said when I emerged. “You look incredible.”

“Is it too much?” I said, smoothing the dress over my hips.

“It’s definitely a statement,” Phoebe said. “Spin. The fit is perfect. It’s like it’s made for you. Is this vintage? Where did you even get that?”

Before I could answer, the door to the Lily Pad swung open, and I felt my heart soar, anticipating Ros’s eyes on me—but it was only Touchstone and Audrey.

“Sorry we’re so late, we got totally hung up putting up scenery—whoa,” Touchstone said. “That’s a dress.”

“Thank you?”

“I just mean—that’s a dress,” he said again.

“Yes, Touchstone, you’ve correctly identified the article of clothing I’m wearing.”

I kicked myself for being sharp with him. Since lunch the other day, even though I’d apologized, something still felt stiff between us. I kept thinking of the way my fingers froze around a tennis racket in the late days of fall, how I needed to blow on them and stretch them to warm them up.

“I just meant… you never wear dresses.”

“Oh my God, you look so pretty! You too, Phoebe! Andrew, you didn’t tell me we were supposed to dress up,” Audrey said, looking back and forth between their outfits in dismay. Of course she looked incredible—she always did—her curly hair loose, in a long skirt printed with daisies and a tiny T-shirt, a sunflower tucked behind one ear. Touchstone had gone with his traditional shorts and T-shirt combo, the T-shirt a stunning blue-green color that reminded me of the color of the Lovesick Falls spring itself and brought out the gold tones in his hair.

“You only wear things with bibs,” Touchstone said, whose brain seemed to have short-circuited.

“Should we go change? Andrew, do you have anything fancier than that?” Audrey said.

“There’s no dress code. You look perfect, both of you. I just got carried away, that’s all.”

“Full Celia Gilbert,” Touchstone said with a smile. I was relieved that he was finally able to talk about something other than my outfit.

“The good news is, I managed to sneak some wine from my parents’ stash,” Audrey said, pulling a bottle from her tote bag and shimmying her shoulders. “Let’s get this party started! Where’s your opener?”

“Here’s a better question,” said Touchstone. “Where’s Ros?”

A rap on the door came as if in response.