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We all laugh. Talking to my friends is such a relief after what happened with Mom.

I’m about to head home when my phone buzzes with another incoming FaceTime call. This time, it’s Henry.

It’s silly, but I suddenly feel shy, so I let my phone ring a couple of times before I pick up. Even though we’ve interacted with each other plenty in person, I’ve never FaceTimed with Henry before. And somehow, accepting his call feels really intimate, like a step forward into uncharted territory.

“Hey,” Henry says when I pick up. His surroundings are dark, and there’s just enough light for me to make out his face. “Wait, are you outside?”

“Yeah,” I reply. “I had a fight with my mom after the premiere, so I wanted to clear my head before I went to bed.”

“Ah. Want to talk about it?”

“Not really. It’s the same crap I’ve been hearing for all my life, just amplified a lot more.”

“Got it. Well, here’s a pic of my dog, Snowball, to cheer you up.”

My phone dings, and I switch back to our texts so I can see the picture. It’s of Henry’s gorgeous white husky, dressed in what looks like a sky-blue onesie with cloud-shaped white buttons.

“OMG,” I say. “Why haven’t you posted this one on Instagram yet?”

I switch back to our conversation so I can see his face.

“Portia actually gave me a limit on how many pictures of Snowball I can post per week.” He makes his voice higher, in a hilarious imitation of Portia. “‘This is your professional Instagram! Not Snowball’s dog-stagram!’”

I laugh. “Honestly, Snowball deserves her own Instagram. She’s the reason I started following you in the first place!”

For a millisecond, I’m afraid Henry might be offended, but he just exclaims, “Aha! So maybe dog-stagrams are my true calling after all. Maybe I should talk to Portia about reevaluating our social media strategy.”

I snort. “You’re so silly. But also, please send meallthe cute dog pics. I can’t get enough. I’ve always wanted a dog but can’t have one because my mom is allergic.”

“All right, I will. My phone is mostly pictures of Snowball, anyway.” He smiles shyly, before clearing his throat. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I watched your audition and you were absolutely amazing. I mean, I knew that from the moment I saw you perform live, but I wanted to tell you that again. You deserve all the hype you’re getting online.”

“Aw, thanks. You were pretty great yourself. Your audition was really cool!”

“Between you and me, I almost broke my back on that stage. Like, literally,” he admits with a wince. “But I’m glad it doesn’t look like it. Really wish I’d started dancing as a kid.”

“Well, youweregoing at it pretty HAM.”

“I know,” he groans. “Let’s stop talking about it.”

His pained expression makes me laugh.

By then, I’m back at my house, standing on our front porch.

“Well, thanks for the call,” I say. “I have to go back inside and sleep, though. Talk to you later this week to coordinate extra practices?”

“Yup, I’ll be in touch.”

“You better be. You already ghosted me once.”

“How about I message you so much that you get sick of me?”

“Forget messages,” I say. “Just spam me with dog pics. That, and plans for practice. Nothing else.”

Henry draws back in mock hurt. “Wow, I see how it is.”

“I’m kidding,” I laugh.

“I know. Good night, Skye.”