I wanted—I have always wanted—what the Honeys had. It was an instant, unconscious wish anytime I saw beautiful girls. I coveted not just their beauty, but their freedom to embody beauty. Their sororal closeness, too, and the power it gave them. I wanted in on the act, and I’m not sure that Caroline ever understood why. Whenever I tried to talk about this incoherent need, or the frantic, harsh static that writhed under my skin—when I saw girls, saw myself,
