Stevie had straightened her hair so that it hung long down her back and moved in a glossy curtain. We were both wearing more makeup than usual. Teri, who was the best of us at it, had done a cat-eye on me and a smoky eye on Stevie, and as I glanced down at myself, and then at Stevie, I was startled to see just how unlike our usual selves we looked. We looked older, more pulled together. Like we were heading somewhere exciting, off to have an adventure—which, I reminded myself as I patted my waves, was exactly what was going to happen.

“I think we’re passable,” I said. “I don’t think they’ll kick us out of Josephine’s.”

“I wish I could come,” Teri sighed as she crossed to the kitchenette and pulled a Sprite out of the fridge. “You’ll give me updates?”

“It’s so cool you have your own fridge,” I said. It honestly seemed like the dream to me—your own fridge, your own snacks.

The Tsai house was huge and modern, all right angles and glass. It was a smart house, and Teri’s parents were constantly updating it, so that oftentimes when we were there, it took us hours to figure out how to do things like turn on lights or heat or the television. Teri had moved out back to the non-smart guesthouse at the beginning of the year and seemed much happier now that she could turn on lights by hitting a switch.

The guesthouse was two stories, with a kitchenette, two bedrooms, and a living area with a couch and a huge television. The second bedroom had two beds, and Stevie and I had each claimed one before we’d started getting ready. But the best part about Teri living in the guesthouse was that we would be able to come and go without her parents seeing and asking pesky questions like why are you here or where have you been or do you have any idea what time it is?

Teri sat back on the couch with her soda, then placed it carefully next to her phone and the remote, which were lined up just so—making me wonder if maybe Ryan Camper was real. This seemed like an awful lot of effort to go to for a figment of your imagination.