I am wearing shoes. Beautiful strappy, silvery shoes with the highest heel I’ve ever worn. So high, I’m not sure I can walk that well.

And the blue dress, which was miraculously still in the store when Mom took me to the mall. So it was meant for me.

Sariah was there buying a dress too. A really pretty dark green. She said, “Frog green.” We cracked up, but the salesgirl didn’t think it was funny. Sariah’s going with a group of girls and we’ll be at the same after-party. I can’t wait to see how she looks.

Jorie took my advice. She looks amazing in the red dress. Like she’s about twenty. Hair piled up in curls, French manicure and pedicure, spray tan.

Mom has told me a hundred times that I look beautiful, but I kind of knew that.

Almost everyone is outside. Same eight houses. Brown, white, tan. But nothing is the same.

Mrs. Chung has turned on her Christmas lights so her trees sparkle in the September sunset. Tonight, the neighborhood looks like something out of a fairy tale. If it wasn’t already.

The air is cool, and summer is almost gone. Mrs. Cantaloni holds Julia in a blanket, and I’m glad to see that Mrs. C.’s stomach is returning to normal. The Millmans are there, with a healthy-looking Beanie by their side. Mr. D. sent me a note that he was sorry to miss everything, but he put a couple of the delicate, sky-blue forget-me-nots in a pot and left it on our doorstep. So a part of Grandma is right outside my door.

And Eli. In a suit and light blue tie. Wow.

He grins and says, “Nice shoes, Neen.”

I laugh and take his hand.

“Nice everything,” he says.

Mrs. Chung brings each of us a marigold. “It’s a flower of love,” she says.

Mrs. Bennett and Mom make us pose for a hundred pictures; Mom is texting some to Matt. He left a few weeks ago, promising me he won’t break into anything at college. And he said he’d miss me and I’d better visit. He said we’ll play poker but he won’t let me win so fast.

Grady and Jorie are taking pictures in her driveway. He’s wearing red Converse shoes with his suit. They look cute together. They fit.

I suddenly think, Sixty-five! I forgot to do the sixty-fifth good thing.

But then I look around, and realize sixty-five is right in front of me. It’s everything.

I hold out my arms and spin around, our circle of houses blurring, my dress floating. Grandma’s wedding band is snug and secure on my finger. There isn’t a vanishing point in a circle. At least that I can see.

Mr. Millman points to the Dixons’. “Someone bought the house!” A sticker on the For Sale sign says SOLD!

“Oh, boy,” Mrs. Millman says. “We’ll keep an eye on that place, won’t we, Beanie?”

Beanie barks. Mrs. Chung nods and says, “Me too. I’ll bring lunch.”

Everyone laughs.

Without a doubt, this is number sixty-five.

Thomas is at my side. He got a buzz cut for kindergarten and he looks so much older that I catch my breath. But I’m happy to see the sword tucked into his shorts.

“Mystery Girl!” he shouts. “You look so pretty!”

I lean down. “Shhh! You’re not supposed to tell anyone.”

“Aw. Everyone knows.”

Eli and I get into the back of his mom’s car, and I put the marigolds on the seat between us.

Because that’s how everything started.

“Ready?” he asks.

I am.