MALCOLM: Cutting it kind of close there . . .

JOY: Sorry not sorry. It takes me ten minutes to figure out what kind of cereal to buy at the store. This was a way bigger decision than that.

MALCOLM: Why?

MALCOLM: What do you mean?

Grace wants her to try.

Joy knew she felt . . . different than Grace and almost all their friends early on—at fifteen, sixteen, maybe? While they all had crushes and started dating, she couldn’t even be bothered to pretend at liking someone so her friends would think she was “normal.” There’d just never been anyone worth pursuing. Not a single soul worth the risk of heartbreak to make them hers.

Until Malcolm.

Waiting for him hasn’t worked out for her, and Malcolm doesn’t wait around, period. His heart lives permanently on his sleeve—battered and bruised but still beating and always searching. It wasn’t Caroline, and if it’s not Summer, it’ll be someone else, because he’s never had a problem trying.

Grace was right—it is Joy’s turn to try. Just not in the way her sister hoped. Before she can think herself into changing her mind, she replies:

JOY: What time are we leaving?

MALCOLM: Seven.

Quickly, Joy hops out of bed and stands in front of her closet, hands on her hips, contemplating her choices. Most of the daytime clothes could be mixed and matched but she’d still need sufficient options to make it work. She also needed nightwear—a few dresses suitable for formal dinners.

She packs a second suitcase for jewelry, loungewear, her pajama sets, bathing suits, lingerie, toiletries, and all her skin care products and lotions. Thank god she decided to get her hair braided. She only needs to pack rosewater spray and hair oil to keep her scalp moisturized.

Selecting the right shoes nearly takes Joy out. It pains her to narrow down her choice to two pairs of tennis shoes, one pair of boots, and three pairs of heels, all in neutral colors. Her clothes can do the heavy lifting with daring colors and bold cuts of fabric.

Throwing together a sophisticated yet functional vacation wardrobe in under two hours takes a sharp eye and nerves of steel. Ever since she was a little girl, nothing was more important than dressing up, finding new and daring ways to express herself. She even looked forward to church on Sundays because she always got to wear her best dresses—frilly with puff sleeves, nylons, and shiny patent leather shoes. Her mom would press her hair and let her wear tinted lip gloss.