“If you want to hook up with Kitty, you should,” I tell him. “As long as we still have Sunday afternoons, okay?” I want him to have something with Kitty if that’s what he wants, but my afternoons gaming with him are one of the few escapes I have left — that and Starworld now that I’m back in touch with Zoe.

“Always,” he says, the confidence in his voice unshakable.

Not much later we pile into the car. Kitty hitches a ride with us instead of the rest of the crew, but I make her sit in the back seat with the Dr Pepper cans. (Last-minute planning and limited funds meant no limo for us.) If Kitty is going to seduce her way into Will’s pants, which she clearly intends to do, she might as well know what she’s in for. She spends the whole ride leaning forward so she can talk into Will’s ear, and I stare out the window and dream about worlds made of stardust — of Zoe with a crown of stars, queen of a much less complicated universe. One in which messes can be wished away and where the possibilities are as innumerable as the stars.

Will pulls into the driveway of one of the Craftsman-style homes prevalent in the older part of our neighborhood. The windshield wipers push off leaves dropped by the huge trees that arch over the road.

Zoe is sitting on a weathered swing on the covered front porch, bundled up in a puffy down coat that looks better suited to skiing.

I crack the door and peer out at her.

“Hey, Sam,” Zoe says.

“Hey,” I echo, my voice soft.

I climb out of the car, suddenly self-conscious about how like a sparkly hobo I must look in my ugly thrift store dress. Kitty jumps out of the back seat to take my place in the front.

“Hi, Zoe,” Kitty says, her voice bright and cheerful.

“You look beautiful, Kitty!” Zoe says. “I love your dress.”

“Thanks!” Kitty bounces on her toes, eyes glimmering with delight at the compliment. “Have a good night, Sam,” she adds as she slips into the passenger seat.

Will’s death trap on wheels backs out, hacking a cloud of exhaust into the rain. Through the blurred window I can see Kitty bid us farewell with a friendly wave. I really should try to be nicer to her.

“Look at you.” Zoe tilts her head and grins at me. Her eyes are puffy. “I would never have the guts to dress that way for Homecoming. You’re so . . . yourself.”

“So, an idiot?” I ask.

She laughs and shakes her head. “No. Clear on who you are. Not a follower.”

I never would have thought of it that way. I don’t know how to be anything other than what I am.

She pats the cushion next to her on the swing. “Sit!”

I obediently take a seat.