“Oh my god!” Gabbie shrieked. “This is so exciting!”
Maya covered her ears.
“I mean, I knew you were gonna get it but now it’s official,” Gabbie said. “I would like to formally request to be your plus one to literally anything you have to go to while you’re promoting this movie.”
Delali had gotten a call from Mazy Kutekwa yesterday, in the middle of a workout with her trainer. It hadn’t taken her long to notify everyone in her life that she was leaving school to go back to acting—she’d just made sure to leave out the part about Dean Toggsworth bursting a blood vessel when he’d found out another celebrity admit wouldn’t be making it to graduation. Toggsworth had called an emergency meeting, where he’d been pretty clear that Delali’s only choices were to graduate on time (therefore boosting commitment rates from high schoolers and nudging the university closer to being the most exclusive in the world) or get steamrolled by the university’s PR team. Delali had accepted the challenge. Sure, she could try to postpone production or come back to graduate when it finished, but she wasn’t feeling particularly flexible considering Dr. Portillo’s inner monologue back in November. Chemistry reads with potential Rob Nemiroffs started next week, and she was already getting excited by the buzz she could generate from a pap walk with Austin Butler.
“Me too,” Maya added. They were all lying on Delali’s California king eating chips and guac, but now Maya stood and looked over her shoulder dramatically, as if posing on a red carpet. “But not just anything, the Met Gala would be preferred.”
Delali couldn’t help but admire the audacity. “Done,” she said. “Are you and Tatiana gonna wear matching Clarke Stein?”
“Careful before I read you more of Adrien’s tweets,” Maya threatened, but Delali noticed a tiny smile.
“Jeez, I can’t believe the girl you used to call ‘Ratiana’ has already made you this soft,” Delali said. After the wedding, Maya had texted Delali, “nvm about the quitting thing.” Today, she’d showed up to Delali’s in the kind of outfit she used to wear before probation errands took up all her time: a white satin top with shoulder pads and rouching at the neck; a pair of straight-leg jeans that had black leather pockets; and black pointed-toe pumps. She’d even curled her ponytail. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
Maya flopped back on the bed and threw a chip at Delali.
“OMG that’s why you were so late today, isn’t it?” Gabbie asked excitedly, propping herself up on her arm. She brushed a bunch of crumbs off her black mini skirt. “Were you with Tatiana before this?”
“No,” Maya said. “I mean, yes, but that’s not why I was late. We went to The Bar for breakfast so she could meet everyone and you know how long brunch takes there. Especially when Faison’s mopey, which he definitely was this morning.”
“Mopey?” Gabbie asked. “What happened to him?”
Maya shrugged. “I don’t know, but he had on his Adele celebritee so it’s probably a girl.”
Gabbie bit her lip and pretended to pull some fluff off the thrifted sweater vest she’d worn today.
“Anyway, your turn for updates,” Maya said. “What’s going on with Sam?”
“Who?” Gabbie asked.
“Your boyfriend, Sam? I feel like you haven’t mentioned him in ages.”
Delali tried to hide her interest, but she couldn’t. She’d noticed the absence of mushy Insta posts about Dan too, and was pretty glad to see it. She’d always thought Gabbie could do better than the sunburnt Peace Corps boyfriend and for months, Maya had been appreciatively pointing out the improvements Gabbie’s style—maybe they were witnessing a post-breakup glow up.
“So?” Gabbie dug a chip into the guac. “First of all, his name’s Dan. Second of all, he’s away in Kenya—”
“Well, that never stopped you before,” Delali said.
Maya snickered, sucking the salt off her fingers then covertly wiping them on her faux-leather pants.
“Things are fine,” Gabbie said, her mind going to the text Faison had sent that morning.
Faison
By ‘fine’ she meant she’d spent the last fourteen hours replaying the Faison kiss, and only five minutes on the phone with Dan. She could hardly look at him now, even through a screen. “Anyway, we have a banner to send, remember? You’re the ones who have been dyyyying to get to the Sphere. Completing this assignment is what gets us there.”
“Right,” Delali replied, straightening up. Throughout their training, Alba had never allowed them to contact her by phone, email, or surprise in-person meeting. She’d confined them to banners, so they could get a better grasp of the way the Sphere communicated. They’d always sent Alba their individual questions as they arose, but something about sending this message together seemed right. So, even though it was a Monday night, the girls all met at Delali’s.
Delali joined Gabbie on the floor, hiking her jeans up before she sat, and Maya followed. She summoned a sheet of Spherical paper. “So what are we saying?”
“We did it?” Gabbie suggested with a shrug.
“Or maybe more like, our metrics are full,” Maya added.
Delali nodded and began writing with the tip of her freshly manicured finger, the text appearing on the page as she did:
Alba—
Our metrics are full and we believe we’ve completed our training. We’re ready for our final assignment.
—Delali, Gabbie, and Maya
“Good?” Delali asked. Gabbie and Maya nodded, and she added to the bottom of the page:
Send immediately.
The text fled silently from the paper, leaving it blank. The girls looked at each other.
“What now?” Gabbie asked.
“I don’t know,” Delali said. “Wait?” She checked her watch.
“We could watch a movie,” Maya suggested.
“Hocus Pocus?” Gabbie recommended.
“No,” Delali said at the same time Maya said, “Be for real.”
Delali pulled a decorative gold pin out of her braids and fiddled with it. She was about to recommend going out to dinner when the banner appeared.
It read:
Congratulations, girls. I am tremendously proud. Your assignment has made itself clear to me over the last three days. I will relay the details to you at Sunday’s meeting.
—Alba