I was the logical one. The rational one. Our dynamic, so familiar I ached with it, brought tears to my eyes. I wasn’t in the shower, and I only ever cried in the shower—but I couldn’t help it. “Less crying,” Kaylie ordered imperiously. “More wild abandon.” Let go, I told myself. Feel the music. In my heart I knew: She was the music. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be, but I danced the way she did, like I’d been born shouting my joy and my fury to the moon.
