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“How do you picture it? Now I need to know that before you come in.”

Taylor sighed, but with a smile on her face.

“See, now I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m probably going to get this all wrong and offend you in the process.”

Avery waved that away.

“I still want to hear it.”

“Fine.” Taylor paused for a moment. “This is all just off the top of my head, but: completely immaculate; your closet is organized by color; everything is decorated in, like, warm neutrals but also lots of things that design people refer to as ‘pops of color’ with those cute and also useful knickknacks that I only see on Instagram; throw pillows everywhere; lots of plants, tons of books.” She paused. “Oh, and a perfectly made bed; you strike me as one of those people who makes your bed every morning as soon as you get out of it.”

Avery said nothing. She just unlocked her door, pushed it open, and flipped on the lights. She stood there at the door, Taylor by her side, as Taylor looked from her camel-colored couch with four bright throw pillows on it to her brass and pink lamps to her many plants, all in different but coordinating planters. She silently closed the door.

“Well.” Avery hung her bag on the carved wooden coatrack on her door. “I guess you’ve gotten to know me pretty well.”

Taylor was silent as she walked around the room. Finally, she stopped next to the basket that Avery kept next to her couch and looked inside it.

“You have a decorative basket…filled with blankets.” Taylor giggled and dropped down on the couch.

“Why is that so funny?” Avery stood in front of her, her hands on her hips. “It gets so hot here in the summer, but sometimes still chilly at night, and the basket is a great place to put the blankets away but still have them accessible, just in case, and—”

Before she could finish, Taylor grabbed one of her hands and pulled her down onto the couch.

“She’s explaining the practicality of the cute but also useful decorative basket,” Taylor said to an imaginary audience.

Avery tried not to crack a smile, but it was hard.

“Look, I already told you that you were right about me, you don’t need to rub it in.”

Taylor grinned at her.

“Your closet?”

Avery nodded.

“In order by color, then subdivided by occasion. So, like, work clothes in one section, weekend clothes in another. I’m never quite sure where pink is supposed to go in the color order, though. I put it in right after red, though some people put it in at the beginning of the purple section; that just feels wrong to me.”

Taylor’s face was full of mirth.

“Your bed.”

Avery cleared her throat.

“I make it every morning,” she said. “Though, this morning…”

“Wait, don’t tell me—you were in a rush, so you didn’t plump up the pillows?”

Avery rolled her eyes.

“Of course not, I would never not plump up the pillows. No, I was in a rush, so I didn’t refold the decorative blanket that lives at the foot of the bed.”

Taylor let out a loud shout, and finally Avery couldn’t help but join her. “I’m sorry that I’m so predictable,” Avery said.

Taylor shook her head.

“You have nothing to apologize for, you’re perfect.”

Avery laughed at that.