“We’re going to watch the sun set,” he says. “I’m not sitting here any longer. Too much misery in this room. I need out.” Lils sneers. “And you want us to all traipse off to the garden and watch the sun set because you hate dealing with reality?” “I can deal with reality perfectly well,” he says back, grinning. “I just don’t see why I should.”

“As I watch from the stage, I see more and more people wandering away. Jimi notices too, and says, “You can leave if you want to. We’re just jamming, that’s all. You can leave, or you can clap.” He looks up at the streaks of sun pouring through the clouds — some of the first rays we’ve seen in a while. “The sky church is still here, as you can see,” he murmurs.”

“Keep it,” he says. “Something to remember me by.”“I don’t need a sweatshirt for that,” I say, already putting it back on.“Then keep it because it’s cool.”“Deal.”

“Lisa folds her hands. “The world tests us for reasons, Miss Bishop,” she says sweetly. “Don’t you want to be Crew?” I hate that line. I hate it because it is the Librarians’ way of saying deal with it.”

“We’re adults,” he says quickly. “I’m only here to work. I won’t bother you or anything.”“Fine,” she says. “Great.”“Great,” he repeats.“We’re too good of work friends anyways.”“We are?”“I mean, we’re probably too much alike,” she says.“Yeah, it would be too weird. If things didn’t work out.”“These things never work out,” she says.“Exactly,” he says.“Exactly.”“Right,” he adds. “Exactly.”“And who needs all the weirdness?”

“THE SERUM WEARS off five hours later, when the sun is just beginning to set. Tobias shut me in my room for the rest of the day, checking on me every hour. This time when he comes in, I am sitting on the bed, glaring at the wall. “Thank God,” he says, pressing his forehead to the door. “I was beginning to think it would never wear off and I would have to leave you here to … smell flowers, or whatever you wanted to do while you were on that stuff.”