“No,” Kenzie said. The smile fell from her face. “I give off a weird vibe, too. I had to get it from somewhere, so obviously I overachieved and got a full share from each of my parents.”

“Speaking of overachieving and casual segues away from uncomfortable topics,” Tristan said. “I like the saintly laying-on-hands you’re doing for your laptop there. That’s a new thing.”

“It’s warm and my hands are cold, duh.”

“Of course. Too bad, I liked the image of you as technology Jesus.”

She closed her eyes, leaning back, and hummed. She kept her eyes closed as she stopped humming, and said, “I wish I actually got to go to church enough that I could know something fancy to say.”

“I’m not much of a memorizer,” Tristan said. “Most of what I could tell you is what I remember from choir. I could give you Byron, but I don’t know how he’d feel about that.”

“No, it’s okay. Not a big deal,” Kenzie said.

Chris was making his way down the street. Where Tristan had been confident and well dressed, Chris wore a sweatshirt and ducked his head. He had the headphones on, but not the braces. He looked very much like a thirteen-year-old boy, down to the sullen look in his eyes.

“What the hell, Tristan? I feel underdressed,” Chris said.

“You dressed up a little,” Kenzie said. “No braces. It’s nice.”

“No braces because I have back to back dentist appointments,” Chris said. He put one finger at the corner of his mouth, yanking it back to show his teeth. The mounts for the braces were still on the teeth, and two of the teeth were missing. A canine and the molar behind it, at the top.

“You changed too much,” Tristan made it a statement and not a question.

“And I got dry socket. I’m fucking miserable.”

“You shouldn’t change too much.”

“Oh yes, thank you Tristan. I completely forgot. I need and want to change, in case you forgot. Like right now, I want to get back home and change into a puddle of flesh with no nerve endings or teeth. But we’re doing this instead.”

“We’re just missing Sveta,” I said.

“The only person without a phone. Great,” Chris said.

“The trains are down so getting here is tough. I know it sucks, but stick it out,” I said.

“Do you have any fun painkillers your doctor prescribed you?”

“I have some. I’m not going to give them to a minor who didn’t have them prescribed to him. Do you want a boring over-the-counter painkiller instead?”

Chris nodded, and I got a bottle from my bag, passing it across the table to him.

He tipped four or five pills into his hand and before I could get an accurate count or realize what he was doing, tossed them back into his mouth, swallowing them dry.

“Chris!”