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your sleep,” said Cole, “but then I know these have been normal hours for you, lately.”
    Emalie smiled sheepishly. “Thanks.”
    Dean, Autumn, Oliver, and Emalie headed out to the tiny backyard. There was a sweet smell from the last tomatoes in the garden, and the grass was littered with the first fallen leaves. A light mist had begun to fall, so they zipped up their sweatshirts.
    Dean grabbed an old basketball from the grass, and the group moved to the driveway beside the house. They split into teams, Autumn and Dean versus Emalie and Oliver.
    â€œPass it!” Emalie called, racing past Dean. Oliver flicked her the ball, and she immediately vanished, reappearing on the roof behind the backboard.
    Dean was leaping up right behind her. Emalie laughed, dribbling across the sloped roof, Dean sidestepping to keep her from the basket.
    â€œOliver!” she called. Oliver got a running start past Autumn and leaped. At the same time, Emalie hooked the ball over her head. Oliver caught it in midflight as he sailed past the basket, which was down by his knees. He flicked it off the backboard, only to have it swatted away from the rim by Autumn as she arced through the air.
    â€œNice!” called Dean, jumping off the roof.
    They played to breathless exhaustion, the zombies winning, despite Oliver and Emalie’s best attempts. It was fun to watch Dean come up with new levels of awkwardness to justify bumping or falling into Autumn, and most of all, Oliver enjoyed the high fives with Emalie—all business, no smiles; she got so competitive in games like this.
    And then there was one moment, after Oliver hit a tricky shot while falling to the ground, when Emalie helped him up with two hands, and Oliver lurched to his feet, and they ended up within inches of each other. For a moment their eyes locked, and Oliver swam out of balance. Her eyes were so clear, so enormous, and her face, and her skin, slightly aglow from the scarf, and the scent of her, warm and alive. Oliver felt like he was falling toward her even though he was standing still—
    Ah! Emalie disappeared. Oliver felt her invisible hands push him away. She winked back into sight at the far end of the driveway, picking up the ball and checking it to Autumn, her eyes firmly not on Oliver.
    Sorry, he thought to her.
    She glanced at him with a slight smile, but didn’t reply.
    After the game ended, Dean looked around. “Where’d Emalie go?”
    â€œDon’t know,” said Oliver. She’d just vanished, but he sensed her nearby. “There she is,” he said, pointing to the roof. Oliver started toward the side of the house.
    â€œI’ll be, um, up in a sec,” said Dean, “I’m just gonna…er, walk Autumn out.”
    â€œSure,” said Oliver, smiling. He climbed up the wall to the roof and sat beside Emalie on the narrow peak, overlooking the sleepy neighborhood.
    â€œCool party, huh?” he said.
    Emalie sniffled and wiped at her nose. She was wrapping and unwrapping her finger with the scarf.
    â€œHey, what is it?”
    â€œI’m thirteen,” she said with a heavy sigh.
    Oliver wasn’t sure what to say. He could see how a birthday could be a downer for a human, considering they had so few of them. “Well, now we’re the same age. That’s cool.”
    Emalie huffed. “But next year I’ll be fourteen.”
    â€œMe, too.”
    Emalie frowned at him. “And what about when I’m fifteen?” Her eyes burned.
    â€œWell,” Oliver began, but then he understood. “I’ll still be fourteen.”
    Emalie sighed. “And then I’ll be, like, eighteen and in college and you’ll still be fourteen. And then I’ll be old, like, thirty, and you’ll only be…”
    Oliver did the math immediately. “Sixteen.” His insides sank.
    Emalie nodded quietly.
    Oliver thought of that moment during the game, when their