“You should have seen your face just now!” I told Izzy. “You looked hilarious!”

“Yeah, I did not see that one coming,” he said. “Not from you.”

“I guess I can be spontaneous sometimes,” I said, beaming.

Mean Me tried to disagree, but I couldn’t hear the mean voice. Partly, it was because of the lake and its calming vibe. But mostly, it was because I heard Colette instead.

I’m proud of you, friend, I imagined her saying. It’s clear you impressed Izzy.

I didn’t do it for him, though—I did it for you.

No, I imagined her saying. It was even better than that. You did it for yourself.

Once I knew Kennedy was asleep, which meant that everyone was asleep, since Kennedy stayed up the latest, I tiptoed out of the loft and down the precarious cabin stairs to the living room. I considered going outside but didn’t want to take a shower in bug spray, and besides, I was too driven. I could hardly wait to get started.

Curling my legs under me in the musty chair with the cowboy embroidery, a dim lamp with cobwebs in the shade overhead, I finally—finally—drew Colette. Possessed by creative focus, I lost track of time as I lightly sketched the shapes, then darkened the shadows, smudged, layered, and layered more, defining what Karly had told us were the dark and light values.

My phone sat on the wooden side table holding a picture of Colette for reference, but I hardly needed it. I could see her without looking, from her barely there eyebrows to her constantly curious expression to her confetti freckles to her snug T-shirt that said KINDNESS MATTERS to her long auburn hair, fuzzy on top with baby sprouts sticking up, loose waves spiraling from cheekbones to chest.

Completely in the zone, even though I was only drawing a portrait, I felt like I was capturing Colette’s awkward strut, contagious laugh, ridiculous dance moves, beautiful voice, warmth, friendship, and heart, too.

Someone could have snuck up on me, and I wouldn’t have known it . . . and they did.

“I like your picture, Teth.”

I drew an unwanted slash across the right side of the page, then put my hand over my thumping heart.

“Kane, you scared me!”

He giggled. “You jumped. That was funny.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, too. “I guess it was,” I said. “But what are you doing up?”

“I’m thirsty and also what are you doing up, too?” He tilted his head to the side; all of his hair stuck up and to the left, similar to how Frankie’s friend Kai purposely tried to style his. “Will you get me some milk? Because it’s too heavy for me to pick up and I could spill it okay, Teth?”

“Sure,” I said, bummed about the interruption but still thinking Kane was adorable in his frog onesie with his weird way of talking.