I walked to the front door and greeted Tom and Seema, with a little laugh of surprise and confusion. I hadn’t seen either of them since the first meeting, nearly four months earlier. Neither of them had come to the second one. I had taken Seema’s number, though, and we’d been messaging on and off since.

Come in, I said. Hey Google, turn off.

The music stopped and, in the ensuing quiet, The Hum retook its place as the dominant noise in my awareness. Seema told Ashley she looked gorgeous. Ashley gave her a polite smile, and I explained that it was prom night.

Oh god, of course. We can come back later, Seema offered, but I waved away the suggestion.

No, no it’s fine, her friends are coming by to pick her up any minute. We’re hosting the after-party.

Without saying a word, Ashley turned, and bolted up to her bedroom, stumbling on her dress halfway up the stairs. She had no idea who these visitors were, but she must have assumed they were two Hummers, as she called us. Ashley had never met another Hummer before, and I wondered if Seema’s nose piercing and tattoos and other signifiers of countercultural alignment, even her age and ethnicity, were making Ashley re-evaluate who a Hummer might be.

Seema apologized for dropping by unannounced, no doubt sensing the tension their arrival had caused.

I’m not sure if you saw my last message, she asked, walking past me into the dining room, and taking in the decorations.

Yes I did, I said. I’m sorry, I kept meaning to reply.

There’s been a subsequent development, Tom said.

Oh okay. Well here—I pulled out chairs for them at the table and motioned to the mounds of junk food and liquor laid out. If anything strikes your fancy—

I wouldn’t mind a Johnnie Walker, Tom replied. If you’re offering.

I cracked the bottle, and poured him a shot into a plastic cup, before deciding to pour myself one as well.

Are these kids of age? he asked.

Well. You know how it is.

Seema asked if I was worried about them trashing the place, and I laughed. I’m serious! she said.

No, I know! All the valuables have been locked away.

God, I’d be so anal, she said, shaking her head and looking around.

Tom took a sip of whisky—I guess you’ll be around to keep an eye on things.

Oh no, I’m out of here. They don’t want Mom hanging around.

Seema was amazed. You’re a saint, she said.

I told her I was seventeen once too; I got it.

And where will you go? she asked.

I’m staying with Leslie, actually, I said. From the group, I clarified, in case they had forgotten.

Oh, that’s nice, Seema replied, somewhat muted.