You Look Different in Real Life

in unison.
    Then something amazing happens. Keira laughs. Rory takes her cue and laughs as well, then Nate notices what we’re doing and cracks a smile.
    Finally, a light turns yellow, then red, as we approach, and Nate gently pulls the car to a full stop. But my heart keeps traveling in a joyful trajectory, soaring through the windshield and up into the air, higher than the buildings. Weightless for several infinite seconds, before it rebounds and when it does, everything in the car feels changed again.
    “So, Rory,” says Keira into the sudden stillness. “Tell me about this epic party.”
    Mrs. Jones’s street is lit all pretty from streetlamps now. Welcoming. This is going to sound weird but at this point, it almost feels like home.
    After putting the car in a nearby garage, we stand at the foot of the steps leading to Keira’s mom’s brownstone. I really want to get a shot of it like this, the dark wood of the front door glowing a little from the reflected streetlamp, but don’t want to ruin the moment. Keira’s moment, like I said in the car. Although in a way, it belongs to all of us.
    “Hey, Keira,” says Nate.
    “Yeah?” She doesn’t take her eyes off the door.
    “I’m really glad you’re here.”
    I don’t know if he means here with us or here about to visit the mother you haven’t seen in five years , but it makes her smile. Then she walks quickly, almost businesslike, up to the door and rings the bell.
    “Nate?” says Mrs. Jones’s voice on the intercom.
    “It’s us,” Nate says loudly as he runs up to the door, and yes, it’s a bit strange that she didn’t say “Keira,” but we’re ignoring that.
    “Second floor,” she says, and buzzes us in. Once inside, I can tell Nate wants to lead the way, like he has been all day, but I’m glad he lets Keira go first.
    Mrs. Jones is waiting on the second-floor landing. I can see her but Keira hasn’t noticed yet because she’s climbing the stairs looking at her feet. This is a risk I have to take. I hang back, press record, and frame the scene. I have to zoom in a bit and the light in the stairwell sucks, but it will work. I’ll show the footage to Keira later and if she asks me to destroy it, I will.
    Keira looks up. Sees her mother standing there. Stops cold.
    There’s a bit of traffic backup as Nate must now stop abruptly, then Felix, then Rory.
    “Hi, sweetheart,” says Mrs. Jones, her voice unsteady.
    Keira climbs the last few steps and nobody’s sure what’s going to happen next. She freezes again when she reachesthe top, and looks like she might actually be shaking.
    Then she throws herself into her mother’s arms. There’s a noise now, echoing through the stairwell. It’s the sound of Keira crying. And now Mrs. Jones is crying, and their crying together is the strangest, sweetest duet I’ve ever heard.
    According to the digital clock on the kitchen stove, it’s officially Sunday now.
    The sofa bed in Mrs. Jones’s living room is lumpy and I can feel a coil on my hip as I lie on my side, but holy shit it’s good to be still.
    Felix and Nate are already asleep on the floor on blankets a few feet apart. I’ve never seen anyone crash that quickly. It was literally head plus pillow equals out cold . Don’t guys ever lie awake worrying about recently lived-through, world-changing experiences?
    Rory’s in the bathroom and I think maybe I’m waiting for her to come out. Ratso the rabbit is sleeping in a cardboard box in the corner and still looks absolutely bewildered.
    “You must all stay,” Mrs. Jones said earlier. “I can’t let you drive all the way to Mountain Ridge this late.” None of us protested. As strange as it is to be crashing at this woman’s apartment, it seemed a far better choice than going home and facing our parents in the middle of the night. It was hard enough to text them with the news thatwe wouldn’t be back until morning.
    Keira’s in the bedroom with her mother. I haven’t heard a word from either of them since they went in there. I imagine them just lying in bed, holding each other. Maybe talking is too big, or too small, for where they are right now. I’m not sure how or if or why I would forgive my mother for walking out on me. I know it’s more complicated than that. The force that brought Keira here is something I will hopefully never have to understand.
    The bathroom door opens, throwing a beam of light across the floor and right onto Nate’s sleeping face, which I will