I set my phone on my lap so I can feel it buzz if she replies. I feel everyone’s eyes on me as I cut into the burrito. It spills with melted cheese and red-orange oils — it looks indescribably delicious. “Oh my god, stare at something else,” I tell them, laughing. I take a bite.

It takes a long moment for the full impact. There are several kinds of heats: a fast, exciting one on my tongue and lips, and then a slower, burnier one in my throat. There is also a feeling of my sinuses being napalmed. And then, a flash of complete fire brings up the rear.

I give them a grin and mmmmm loudly. Syd passes me a napkin and I wipe my eyes. “More,” I say, waving a hand at her. My nose is running, too.

“You never listen,” Cammie says, petting my hair. “Silly foolish girl.”

In response, I take another large bite. It hurts. But it’s so good.

When my phone buzzes, I jump about a mile. When the others start to eat, I sneak a look.

Sam: *stares* *pulls out Scoville/dragon scale and calculates distance in excess of twenty billion light-years*

My friends’ conversation turns to college visits, a subject to which I have little to contribute. I type a response to Sam.

EXCELLENT. I could use a few billion light-years away from here. How are things with you?

Sam: I could also use some distance. And maybe a planet where odd numbers are allowed. *is trying not to interfere with certain people’s routines*

Me: Sorry things are rough. Things at my house are kind of a dumpster fire, too.

Sam: Blergh. Speaking of fires, are you actually eating that burrito or is that just some scary photo you found on the internet?

Me: I AM EATING IT. *breathes fire*

Sam: *hides behind Humphrey in hopes that he’s flameproof*

Suddenly Cammie is leaning in, trying to see my phone. “What are you grinning about? Is Hunter sending you pictures of the bulge in his pants?”

I jerk away, shielding my phone, and everyone laughs. They watch me expectantly.

“Maybe,” I say, angling myself so Cammie can’t see my screen. I feel bad, especially because lately it feels like I share less and less with my friends. But it’s easier to let them think it’s Hunter than to explain texting with Sam Jones.

It occurs to me with a stab of sadness that at one time, it would have been Hunter’s messages that I couldn’t resist, that made me happy. But that giddy, all-encompassing preoccupation with him has faded.

I go back to messaging Sam: *pats Humphrey carefully* *wonders what else he can do*

Sam: *sets him loose to rampage & burninate our enemies*

Me: *pretends to know what burninating is* *wonders if it’s urinating with fire*

Sam: *pees fire and dies laughing*