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I pause, listening to the shriek of a little kid juh dive When Melanie and I were little, we used to hold hands and juain

"But what if it’s not hi his na Willem I scarcely even allow myself to think it in uy dicked you over!"

"No! I’ about me"

"You?"

"It’s, like, the me I was that day I was different somehow"

"Different? How?"

"I was Lulu"

"But that was just a name Just pretend"

Maybe it was But still, that whole day, being with Wille Lulu, itin a small, square room, with no s and no doors And I was fine I was happy, even I thought Then so and showed me there was a door in the room One that I’d never even seen before Then he opened it for h it And for one perfect day, I was on the other side I was soone, and I was thrown back into my little room And now, no matter what I do, I can’t seem to find that door

"It didn’t feel pretend," I tell Melanie

Melanie arranges her face in sympathy "Oh, sweetie It’s because you were all hopped up on the fuht Especially you You’re Allyson You’re so solid It’s one of the things I love about you--how reliably you are"

I want to protest What about transfor on about? Are those only reserved for her? Is there a different standard for me?

"You knohat you need? Some Ani DeFranco" She pulls out her iPhone and shoves the buds inyour voice andit heard, I feel so frustrated with myself Like I want to pull ainst the hot ce there was soht understand what I’ine the person I could talk to, about finding this door, and losing it He would understand

But that’s the one door that needs to stay shut

Eighteen

So the sau to hire a hotel-approved taxi for the entire night, Melanie and I o to that New Year’s Eve party It’s being held on a narrow crescent of sand, all lit up with tiki torches, and at ten o’clock, it’s already slaae band will play, though right now a dj is playing techno

There are several giant piles of discarded shoes Melanie tosses off her bright-orange flip-flops I hesitate before taking offI’ll find the else, I swear I will never hear the end of it

"Quite the bacchanal," Melanie says approvingly, nodding to the guys in swiirls in sarongs with their hair freshly cornrowed There are even actual Mexicans here, the guys smartly dressed in sheer white shirts, hair slicked back, and the girls in fancy party dresses, cut up to there, legs long and brown

"Dance first or drink first?"

I don’t want to dance So I say drink We line up at the packed bar Behind us is a group of French-speaking people, which makes me do a double take There’s hardly anyone but Americans at our hotel, but of course people from everywhere come to Mexico

"Here" Melanie shoves a drink into my hand It’s in a hollowed-out piece of pineapple I take a sniff It shtly going down "Good girl"

I think of Ms Foley "Don’t call irl"

"I’irl"

We drink our drinks in silence, taking in the growing party "Let’s dance," Melanie says, yankingof sand that has been allocated as the dance floor

I shake ain "Are you going to be like this all night?"

"Like what?" I think of what she called me on the tour--adventure averse--and what she said at the pool "So like ht that’s what you loved about me"

"What is your problem? You’ve had a stick up your ass this whole trip! It’s not my fault your mom is Study-Hall Nazi"

"No, but it is your fault forme feel like crap because I don’t want to dance I hate techno I have always hated techno, so you should know that, ithso reliably me"

"Fine Why don’t you be reliably you and sit on the sidelines while I dance"