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Taryn held up a finger. “Hmm. No. Not planning on that last part. Mine are shy. We shouldn’t ask much of them.”

“Well, tonight’s their debut.” Caz shut the closet door, clearly deciding nothing inside would do, and stalked back into the living room. “These parties are always half-naked parties. It’s the collegiate way.”

“That’s why I love them,” Sasha sighed.

Taryn squinted. “But should it be? Really?” Taryn wasn’t sure she was ready to put it all out there, college party or not. Yes, there would likely be hot girls there to get to know, but her dignity did have a say.

“I don’t know why you’re worried about it. If I had your body, I’d be naked right now,” Sasha said. “I’m thinking of wearing my hair up to show off my neck. I’m told it’s stunning.”

Taryn didn’t hesitate. “And it is. You have a killer neck. No question.”

“Sure, agreed about the neck, but we need to focus,” Caz said. She’d suddenly turned loud, which Taryn understood was Caz’s way. Her volume fluctuated with any slight shift of topic or emotion.

“I’m listening,” Taryn said.

“The shouting is a choice,” Sasha said. “Try nonchalance, like me.” She ran a finger down her neck, still preoccupied with it.

“Idea forthcoming.”

“Hit me,” Taryn said.

Caz offered a nod and stepped forward. “There’s a vintage store on Fourth. We can score cheap—and hopefully downright sexy—outfits. I’m willing to give up my parking space and drive, which we can all admit is a mighty sacrifice for the success of our merry band. Are you in?”

“I’ve got nothing better to do,” Sasha said.

Taryn laughed. “How can I say no to such a huge parking gesture?”

Caz went very serious. “I thought you’d see it that way.”

The vintage shop, aptly named Witches of Wayback, was crowded with so many miscellaneous objects that it was difficult to shop in any effective manner. The two-room space overflowed with circular clothing racks and shelves up to the ceiling crowded with pots and pans, cookie jars, old telephones, and knickknacks of many enviable shapes and sizes. In the center of the room, several mannequins seemed to be conducting a meeting in their 1920s finery, one wearing a witch’s hat. That was all well and good, but Taryn was quickly seduced to the real show a few feet to the right in a lonely corner. The unremarkable gray shelf sang to her like a siren.

“Oh wow,” she murmured, moving to the display of used cameras sitting together in a jumble of straps and lenses. “Well, look at you.” Taryn picked up an older Nikon model and fiddled with the focus ring. Caz was lost in corsets and leather, and Sasha was holding a conversation with a blow-up Snoopy doll, giving Taryn space to explore her find.

“I could totally work with these kitten ears,” Caz said absently. “Ever have sex in kitten ears?”

“Can’t say I have,” Taryn called back.

“Missing out. Oh! And the purple fur matches the lining of this corset. They need to be together. They’re going to be. Mine, mine, mine.”

“Matchmaking like a pro over there,” Taryn said absently, clicking the shutter and resetting. She might have just fallen in love.

While Caz whipped through hangers in the sexy section, Taryn explored a couple more of the truly impressive-looking cameras, but none really compared to that first Nikon. She’d begun to find her footing in her photography courses, sinking deeper and deeper into the art and technique. She’d taught herself about shadow and contrast, using the light to create a mood, but before coming to Hillspoint, she’d always just used the camera on her phone. Now that she was learning her craft more formally, she’d considered purchasing a camera, which would free her up from renting from the department, but the newer models were out of her price range. She checked the tags on a few of these older guys and was shocked at how affordable they were. Why hadn’t she considered going used before?

“Tare. This would look unbelievable on you. Your boobs would act as the Bat-Signal to all females in the vicinity. Lesbian achievement level unlocked.” Caz held up a white vest and pants set as if she’d just made the sapphic discovery of the decade. “No one will breathe if you wear this.”

Taryn raised a brow. “Um, maybe I should start with fewer females. Plus, I don’t have a shirt that would work underneath.”

“A shirt? Who needs a shirt?”

Taryn blinked. “This is a scandal in the making.”

“I vote yes.” Sasha whirled around and landed next to Caz. “That’s for Taryn, right? That has to be for Taryn, her flawless skin and boobs.”

“See?” Caz said, turning back to her. “We’re buying it. It’s all white. You’re the saint. I’m the feline sinner. We’re perfection in our representation of room 412.”

“Are we sure about this?” Taryn asked.

“Yes,” the two of them said in unison.