I stare at Orion, whose cheekbones are worthy of every magazine cover and his hazel eyes, which I suspect have seen too much for someone so young. I realize I’m staring too long when he begins blushing. I’m pretty confident that Orion is gay. I guess he could be bisexual, but at the very least I’m sure he likes other boys too. It’s obviously not a bad thing that I can tell. I’m jealous that he seems so open and has been probably given the chance to do so. I should find a way to make it clear that I’m into boys too.

“What’s got you hyped about New York so far?” Orion asks.

I could spend the rest of the night answering that question. “I really want to do everything. Just live like a tourist so I don’t take any day for granted.”

“That’s really smart,” Dalma says. “I love this city, but I’m over so much of it.”

“Like what?”

“Subway showtimes. The first few are amazing, but then you get over it and stay focused on whatever you were doing before the dancers arrived.”

“And praying you don’t get kicked in the face,” Orion adds.

“I hope I don’t stop finding it magical” is all I say.

Orion must see some of the excitement vanishing from my eyes. “Don’t let us kill your buzz, we’re both born and raised here. You’re going to be all in, all the time.”

“That’s the plan.”

“What’s epic about New York is that you’re never going to be able to do it all.”

“That’s epic?”

“Hell yeah. It means there’s always something to do. Some new neighborhood to explore, knowing every street will tell its own story. I’m happy to be your tour guide if you want.”

I smile, excited for Orion’s own stories as he takes me around the city. “That sounds like a lot of fun. Thanks so much.”

“You got it.”

A big group of people in lime-green shirts and headbands pass by. They look like they’ve time-traveled from a St. Paddy’s Day celebration, but I know better. They’re extraterrestrial believers who are certain UFOs will surface at midnight and beam them up; we have a lot of those back in Arizona. These believers are mostly harmless—bad eggs in every group, of course—but they’re all in for reality checks really soon when they’re still grounded here tomorrow with nine-to-fives to work and taxes bleeding them dry.

I’m about to take a picture for Scarlett when Dalma asks me a question.

“Are you switching schools for the fall?”

“I’m actually putting college on the back burner. I’m pursuing my dreams instead.”

“Which are . . . ?” Orion asks.