Delia: Work. If I even smell cashew cheese again, I may hurl.

Cassie: I’m hurling just thinking about it.

Delia: And why are you awake?

Cassie: Wired after the show. You know.

Delia: So it has nothing to do with a certain usher you’re crushing on?

Cassie: Please don’t attempt to rhyme. But, yes, we’re watching a movie together right now.

Delia sat up straighter.

Delia: In your house?

Cassie: I wish. She’s in hers, I’m here. It’s a tragedy.

Delia: A regular Juliet and Juliet. Did you ask her out yet?

Cassie: I will. Right after you ask the E-man out.

Delia sucked in her bottom lip.

Delia: Truce?

Cassie: Truce.

Delia: Now tell me about the multiplex.

*   *   *

Delia wished she hadn’t asked. Because now it was two in the morning her time and despite her exhaustion, sleep refused to come. Cassie had said the past few nights were almost full and that the upcoming weekend, which preceded the Fourth of July—always a solid time for the theater—was sold out. Yet her parents were still in talks to sell the theater. And buy a Winnebago, according to Cassie.

With her head on her pillow, Delia stared at the stickers on her mom’s suitcase. She’d already been everywhere. New York, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Paris, London, even Singapore. Each sticker represented the life her parents had before it included her.

Delia leaned over the side of her bed and dragged her backpack closer. She reached into the front pocket and pulled out the San Francisco sticker she’d bought in the campus bookstore before her shift. The Golden Gate Bridge, which was red, not gold, sat atop the name of the city Delia kinda sorta loved even though she’d only caught a glimpse of it. She ran her fingers over each letter before returning it to her backpack, slipping it inside the other thing she’d picked up in the bookstore: a brochure and application to Mountain View University.

She’d never be able to afford it.

Unless, maybe, just maybe, she won ValleyStart, and it was enough to earn her one of the merit scholarships listed in the back of the financial aid section. Maybe she could even start in the spring semester.

She’d have to leave Littlewood, Cassie, her parents. She couldn’t imagine that. Then again, a few months ago she couldn’t imagine ValleyStart either.

Suddenly Lucy flipped over and grumbled, “Maddie.”

No response.

Lucy then tossed back her covers. “Maddie!”

“Yes? Headphones, sorry.”

“It’s after two. Your dedication to Lit is stellar, truly, but do you have any idea how horrific blue screens are for sleep? You’re keeping us up.”

Maddie tapped the bunk. “Delia, you’re awake?”

“If I wasn’t, I would be now, but yes, I’m awake.”