The restaurant was decorated to look like it was truly someone’s eccentric home. In the room behind them, people were sitting on love seats or in custom chairs meant to look like ugly recliners. The mugs they drank from were all vintage. Ayanna’s mind had a picture of Garfield saying “I hate decaf.” There were family photos on the yellow walls. She could see Felix’s face only if she turned completely. She was aware of his arms, the one inch of space between their knees, how he was also turning to take in the room. Ayanna wondered if he was doing the calculations she always did in a new space, the quiet checking to see if she was the only nonwhite person. He kept scanning, paying attention every time someone came through the door. There was a long table, though, of Korean kids, dressed nicely like they might have come from church. A spirit was wisping around, following a waitress, but Ayanna felt only positivity coming from it. She wondered if last night had changed something somehow. Before, it had been easy to resist the urge to see—it had taken effort to hear and understand what the dead were saying, meditation, work she had resisted doing, and now, the spirit was just there. Ayanna realized one of the conversations she was overhearing was it trying to get the waitress’s attention for more coffee.

She shook her head. I don’t want to think about the dead. I want to be here. It didn’t make the ghosts go away, but it helped her refocus on the living.

“Is this place too cool for its own good?” Stephen asked.

It was a ridiculous statement, Ayanna felt, coming from someone who was wearing a beautiful floral jacket over black jeans, an oversized white T-shirt that she had heard him tell Felix was from Japan, and fresh-out-of-the-box Jordans. Everything about him spoke of his willingness to put in effort.

Jane, clearly feeling better, argued it was impossible for something to be too cool for its own good, unless they were talking about someone doing too much K. The world needed pretentiousness to make life worth living. If everything was always trying to be ordinary or ignored, people would never have capital-E Experiences.

“I don’t feel cool enough to be here,” Ayanna said, “but I also feel like shit.”

“Do you want me to go get you a Gatorade and some aspirin?” Stephen asked.

Jane smiled and looked away.

“No, but thanks for the offer.”