“Text him now,” Katherine says to me, putting her face between the seats. She means Jack. Sighing at her very determined expression, I find the poo emoji in my list of messages, and before we’ve circled around the bottom of the lake, Jack has texted me back, promising that he’ll book a safe time for our reconnaissance.

“Reconnaissance!” I say, shaking the phone. Katherine grins.

“He has an excellent vocabulary,” she says. “He taught me the word desiderium. It means wanting something super desperately.”

“That’s kind of emo,” Taylor says, nudging me with an elbow.

“I also know mumpsimus,” she says. “It means you are very stubborn and wrong.”

Taylor looks offended. “I am never.”

“That one is useful,” Nevaeh says, glancing over at Katherine. “Write that one down.”

“I have a whole list,” she says cheerfully, turning around to page through her notebook.

“You do?” Nevaeh says.

“But what if he loves The Lord of the Rings or something?” I say. “We’ll have nothing to talk about.”

“I love The Lord of the Rings,” Nevaeh protests.

“Just the movies,” Taylor says.

“The books first!”

“You will like him, Adeleina,” Katherine says firmly. I settle back in my seat and sigh.

“I read them when I was in grade school,” Nevaeh grumbles.

Taylor pats my hand. “And if you don’t, you’ll still improve your vocabulary.”

“Coddiwomple!” Katherine says, holding up her journal. “Efflorescence! Inglenook! You are pulchritudinous,” she tells Nevaeh.

“Thank you?” she says.

Jack texts again as we’re hustling through the soft snow from the parking lot to the dorms, falling cold and then melting into the neck of my coat. I wind my scarf tighter.

Tomorrow evening.

I scowl at the period. Is he just assuming I’ll say yes?

When. I make sure to add a period and am very satisfied with myself.

Seven.

He spells out numbers. I look up to complain to the others, but they’ve shuffled ahead of me down the path. I know I’m ridiculous, and I sigh. He gets my back up; I don’t know. It’s stress. I am stressed.

I text back a thumbs-up emoji just to be annoying. He sends back a firework emoji almost immediately. I’m not smiling as I slip my phone back into my pocket, hurry after my friends, and give them the news, but almost.