“You can sit, you know,” Georgia says, and Annie acquiesces, keeping her knees, her thighs together on the yellow wicker couch, away from Georgia’s self-assured spread eagle. They sit and watch the sky. The lake is possessed, sloshing its gloomy water onto the bank, rocking back and forth, spitting out its entrails with every new clap of thunder. Annie realizes she forgot to take in the floating devices this morning. The lake has definitely eaten them, defecated the dense foam rubber and vinyl remains into its churning sandy bottom.

Georgia holds out the joint. “You want? I won’t tell.” Annie takes it without thinking. She has never smoked pot before and when she inhales, she is choking, lightning entering her lungs. Georgia smirks quietly.

“You guys don’t really party much out here, do you?” Georgia asks, and Annie coughs once more, her shoulders shuddering, her eyes leaking. She feels fastened to the sofa. If she were to try to get up, its arms would claw her back into its depths.

“What’s it like working for my aunt and uncle? Are they good bosses? My mom always bitches about Belle, but I think she’s jealous. I mean, what a cool lady, right?” It takes Annie a moment to realize Georgia is talking about Mrs. Keller. “You know, she started her business when she was super young, and now she’s, like, a major name. I want to follow in her footsteps. I’m majoring in art history at school. That was Belle’s major, and she says it really helped her know how to, like, identify good pieces, how to read the interior of a room with not only a critical eye, but an intellectual one. That’s the line she used anyway.” She stretches herself out, propping her feet on the table, wriggling her orange-tipped toes. “What do you want to be when you’re older?”

Annie feels her lids sinking, her viscid lips stretching into a shape she can’t control. She wants to curl into the fetal position and fall asleep. She wants her hair to be stroked like her mom used to do when she thought Annie was asleep.

“I don’t know what I want to do. I don’t really see myself ever leaving town.” The words vomit out like little jagged pebbles before she can stop them. She forgets to add But I want to.