Ghost Time

how you can spend the whole day together, and you do, every day, but it’s not enough. Like you want to eat them up, every time you see them, and then, soon as you leave, you have to call them, because you thought of one more thing you absolutely have to tell them. And then, the second after you hang up, they call you right back, thinking of one other thing they absolutely have to tell you. And you aren’t even doing anything special, you’re just hanging in your room or whatever, but your room turns into the whole world. Mom always calls it a girls’ honeymoon, when you share everything and you’re totally inseparable, and that’s how I am with Melody.
    The thing is, at the beginning, I was the one showing Mel all these things, because she’d been living in a cave her wholelife, basically. Then, one day, I find out she’s made her own discoveries, without me, and I was like, Wait, you did something without me? Like one day, I went over, after school, and I sat down on the side of her bed, and Mel goes, Ready? She sounded so excited, too, I go, Ready for what? She goes, I’ve got an idea, and I don’t know if it’ll work, but I want to try. I said, Okay, tell me, and we’ll try, and she goes, Well, I want to do a shoot, like a photo shoot where I describe the pictures, but you take them for us. Like I describe what I see, and you draw the pictures or shoot them , and I go, You mean I shoot what you explain to me? Exactly! she said.
    I thought I understood, but we’d never done it before. So I go, What if I get them wrong? Because I was suddenly afraid of disappointing her, and she goes, Thee, you can’t screw it up, that’s impossible. All right, I said, a little embarrassed that all of a sudden, I’m the one who’s insecure. What’s your idea? I said, and she goes, It’s a movie. And I said, Really? What’s it about? Give me the pitch, I said, leaning back, kicking off my shoes, and she goes, Well, it’s a movie about a girl. I go, Good start, and she goes, A beautiful girl—she’s seventeen, eighteen, maybe, and she’s on the run. And I go, Who is she running from? Mel goes, I don’t know, but whoever it is, she has to totally reinvent herself. I said, Reinvent herself? She’s seventeen, Mel, and Melody goes, Exactly. So she runs away to Paris, because what better place to run away and reinvent yourself? And she has a look that’s sort of exotic and otherworldly, too. She has this sort of Paris 1968 vibe, or wait, wait—no, no, I know—maybe she runs away, back in time? That’s it, that’s it!
    I’ve never seen Mel so excited, she was holding up her hands, like she was asking me to let her think it through, and then she goes, I’ve got it: What if she runs back in time? What if she gets ID pictures taken in a photo booth, and bang, flash, she’s gone! When she steps out of the photo booth, she’s traveled back in time—because isn’t that what a photo booth is, a time machine? So when she steps out of the booth, she finds herself in Paris, in April, 1968. I was just like, Ohmygod, that’s so good , and Mel goes, Now you go, Thea: Your turn. Tell me what you see , she said, and I could see it. I could see everything she was describing, and I said, But does she have a name? Mel beamed, almost squealing, and she goes, Yes! Violaine. Her name is Violaine! Soon as she said that, I could totally see the girl’s face, too, like her long, dark, straight hair and black-and-white photo booth pictures. I said, So she’s got a whole new identity, right? Yes , Mel said: new life, new identity, finds a time machine in a photo booth and she runs away, back in time, to Paris, 1968.
    I was just like, Wow . So she runs away, back in time, to Paris, and then what? I go, What does she do? Mel goes, Oh, easy: She goes to the Louvre every day, where men stare at her. She wears this fitted coat with sort of a swing skirt bottom, like Dior meets Vivienne Westwood coat, and five-inch heels. And leather gloves, of course. But no make up—Violaine doesn’t really do make up, and she doesn’t need to, and she goes to the Louvre every day, because it’s so conspicuous, it’s inconspicuous! Isn’t that genius? If you do say so yourself, I said, laughing. I swear, I have created a monster—the most beautiful monster in the whole wide world, but still.
    Seriously , Thee, she said. Can’t you just imagine her apartment, and her clothes, and her closet, and the balcony off her bedroom, where she has