“No. Not at all,” I lie. Countless times, I’ve wished I could be naturally, effortlessly pretty, the sort of pretty that doesn’t require time or sacrifice. But since that isn’t an option, my only choices are to be high-maintenance pretty and liked as a result, or unpopular the way I was before.

Daisy looks like she’s about to ask something else, but she snaps her mouth shut and grabs her tote bag from the table.

“I’m almost ready,” I tell her. I scrutinize my reflection one last time, then set my lip gloss back onto the counter.

I feel more like myself when I head down the glass elevator with Daisy five minutes later, my face powdered smooth, my hair flowing soft over my shoulders, my black dress fitting snug around my waist and thighs. I always feel better when I look better.

“Wow,” Oliver says appreciatively the second he spots me across the lobby. “And I was so sure that I was the most attractive one here.”

There was a time, just after I turned pretty, when getting any kind of male attention was still a novelty to me, where I’d take Oliver’s words far too seriously and fantasize about what it could all mean. Would he fall in love with me? Did he want to start something? What would we name our future children?

Now I’ve learned that the most it could mean is that he wants to kiss you, and chances are Oliver’s used the same line a dozen times in the past week. So out of politeness, all I do is smile at him, which he returns at double the wattage.

In my peripheral vision, I notice Cyrus standing a few feet from the others. He’s showered as well and changed out of his clothes into a plain black button-down. He stares at me for a second, his face impassive, then abruptly turns to the abstract art on the wall. I’m not sure what philosophical meaning he could be uncovering in those two splotches of orange, but he keeps his eyes pinned on the painting.

“Took you all long enough,” Wang Laoshi barks, raising his blue flag over his head in a somewhat menacing manner. “We’re running two-and-a-half minutes behind schedule. Remember, this is not a family trip; you can’t just choose to show up whenever.”

“No, because if this were a family trip, my dad would have disappeared into the casino, and I’d already be drunk,” Oliver says, loud enough for the whole group to hear. “Just kidding,” he amends hastily when Wang Laoshi shoots him a stern look. “Not kidding in the slightest,” he whispers to me out of the corner of his mouth as we push through the revolving doors.

The smile that twitches at my lips is a little more genuine this time.