Jo, meanwhile, had raised her head off her desk. She got out her phone and was clicking, clicking, clicking through it. “I’m going to find a loan. Like a temporary loan. A refinance. There’s an app for that, right?”

“Probably,” said Daniella.

“Definitely,” said Rinn.

“Don’t do that,” said Maya.

“Oh God, this isn’t even my phone.” Jo was despondent. She whimpered again and put her head down on her desk. “I can’t even open it.”

Jo began digging through her desk drawers, looking for her actual phone, versus all the phones that she had confiscated.

It was Daniella’s phone, there on the desk. Imogen recognized it because she had one of those flippy wallet cases. It was all black and busted, and there was duct tape on the places that were coming apart. It looked like it had been beat to hell and back, and there was no way any of the rest of them would do that to their phone case but Daniella.

Also, it had a small sketch done in Wite-Out on the back that looked exactly like her poetry sketches. Imogen wondered how she’d never noticed that before.

But Jo kept digging out phones.

Her phone. Imogen lived dangerously and didn’t have a case on hers. She knew it was inevitably going to be destroyed one way or another. Or, at least, that’s how she had felt. Looking at the worn, beat-up case that Daniella used, Imogen felt like maybe she ought to get one.

Rinn pulled out her own phone from the waistband of her skirt. It was white with a stack of illustrated books on the back. It looked like it had been drawn both by and for Disney princesses. If Imogen had seen that phone case this morning, she would have puked, it was honestly so nauseatingly adorable. It even had one of those handle things for taking better selfies. Now she just felt like the case suited Rinn, in that overtly femme kind of way.

Rinn was staring at the phones like they held all of the answers in the universe. “Guys.”

“I don’t think refinancing your student loans for Eli is the best use of money.” This time, it was Imogen’s turn to be the voice of reason.

“Do you think we should just roll over and accept that Archer Hunt Junior has been screwing us all this entire time?” Daniella was furious again.

“Guys.” Rinn tried saying it louder this time.

“I can’t think with you guys yelling all around me. Do I want an eighteen percent variable rate?” Jo was clicking, clicking, clicking through her own phone. She’d finally found it. Tap, tap, tap.

Daniella and Imogen both shouted no at the same time. They exchanged a look, and Imogen got the sneaking suspicion that Daniella was also much better at math than she let on publicly.