"We were going to anyway," Evelyn said, adjusting her strap with the calm of someone who always finished what she started.
"You will be the one who tries to replace flares five minutes before a drill."
"I will be the one who saves the day by replacing flares five minutes before a drill," Everly said, flashing a grin that reached her eyes.
Ethan smiled and shook his head. "We will be the ones who check flares before we eat," he said. "Then we can pretend we are chaotic later, at a time of our choosing."
They stood together and joined the slow current of students moving toward the exits. The amphitheater let them go the way a tide releases what it has finished shaping.
As they reached the aisle, a few from another row glanced over — not staring, not measuring too deeply, just noticing.
