It scared me—really scared me for a second. “No,” I said. “Of course not.”

“Wait wait wait!” Declan interrupted us. “This is really interesting. So you’re filming people to make them real?”

“That’s right,” Graham said.

“Huh,” Declan said. “Okay, okay, I get where you might be coming from. As a history buff, you really believe that identity is reified by its documentation.”

“What?” Graham said, sounding genuinely confused and annoyed. “Speak English.”

“Have you shown these to anyone else?” I asked before Declan could go off on some weird tangent about who makes history and what it means. I could hear that one coming a mile away and already I was tired of being trapped between these two nerds.

Graham got a faraway look on his face. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Lots and lots of people have seen my films.” Then he started to look genuinely sad. “Some of them have sold for five thousand dollars. And I think the people who buy them even know what they mean,” he said. “These movies make their life better.” He looked like he might start crying. “They get me,” he said. “They understand.”

We didn’t believe it at first. It looked like a normal Tumblr page. You opened it up and there were links to click on to watch his films. Harmless stuff for the most part. A little full of himself, but what seventeen-year-old boy isn’t?

When we looked closer we realized he had a hidden site—something that only members could access. The whole thing was under the name Copeland Productions—not a very sophisticated secret name. And the Amazon wish list was also under that name. And that list was long and extravagant. I’d say he’s been bought tens of thousands of dollars in merchandise by his “fans” in exchange for these films.

And the films. I can barely describe them to you . . . It makes me want to . . . It makes you sick to think that this is the world we live in. That all this was going on in this beautiful tree-lined neighborhood among these decent people.

Once we got out of Prince Charming’s weirdo castle, we walked back into the woods.

“That kid is not too bright,” Declan said. “I think he’s kinda dumb, actually, which I didn’t quite realize when I was showing him around school. But he’s come to some erroneous ideas about how the world works.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“Oh well. He clearly knows how to frame a shot, I mean, that’s undeniable, he’s talented, but—”

“No! I mean you just think he’s dumb? That’s it?”

Declan nodded. “Yeah. Dumb and really materialistic,” he said. “It’s that simple.”

“I guess you’re right,” I said. “I guess I always think people like that are kinda dangerous.”

“Nah,” Declan said, shaking his head. “They’re mostly harmless, just annoying. At first I thought this guy was real trouble too. But he’s just some geeked-out kid making art who doesn’t have the brains yet to know what it means or why he’s doing it. Maybe he really will be famous someday.”

“What about that thing he said about people buying his movies?” I asked.

“That? That, my dear young lady, is a thing some boys do called bragging. I’m pretty sure it is an enormous exaggeration.”

“C’mon,” I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him farther into the woods. “We already missed dinner, let’s go for a walk so people can have a chance to worry about where we are.” I said it even though it would only be his parents and maybe Ally worrying about where we were.

He laughed and followed me though the pines out into a little clearing. The ground was soft with hundreds of years of decayed pine needles and it smelled amazing. It was already beginning to grow dark when we reached the giant moss-covered stone and climbed on top of it. Declan sat and I stood, leaning my head back to look up at the beautiful canopy of branches, the blazing orange light of late afternoon cutting through the dark branches and creating a strobe effect. He held my legs steady while I arched my back and gazed skyward and then he pulled me down to sit on his lap.

We smoked and held hands, and I said, “I can’t wait until we get out of this town.”

“Yeah, baby,” Declan said. “Just a couple more years, we’re going to freaking Stanford.”

“Or Harvard.”

“Or straight to hell,” he said, grinning.

I kissed him and he put his hands in my hair. I felt like I was melting into him. I rubbed my hand over the front of his jeans and could feel him getting excited. It always seemed like Declan’s mind was racing but when we were making out, it was just the two of us. So amazing. Like time actually stopped and there was nothing else to do in the whole world but suck on Declan’s lips.

“If no one sees us doing this, is it really happening?” I joked.

He laughed. And I am sure we were both thinking about what an upside-down world Graham lived in, where you exist only when there’s some photographic evidence of you.

Before we realized it—it was dark. We walked back through the woods to the edge of my driveway—the property line between Graham’s house and mine. And we stood behind my house kissing. He pressed me up against the side of the garage and slipped his hand up my shirt and inside my bra. I looked back at the house and saw the light of the kitchen window.

Allyson was standing there. She was looking out into the woods. Just staring blankly into nothing. Sometimes I think when I’m not around or when Mom is not telling her what to do, she just shuts down. I had no idea if she had ever leaned against the garage and felt a boy’s hard body pressing into her. But I knew she was missing a lot. And maybe dull-witted handsome Graham was the boy who would make her want to finally do more than homework and bake blueberry muffins.

I gave Declan a last tight squeeze and he put his skateboard down on the driveway.

“Tomorrow, Miss Tate?”

“You bring the herb and I’ll bring the flame.”

He high-fived me and skated away and I watched him cruise down the driveway and out onto the cool autumn street. The tall ornate streetlamps started to turn on one by one as he passed beneath them and I thought what a badass Declan Wells was. And how lucky I was to know him.

4:21—Tate going into her house

4:34—Tate in her bedroom

5:00—Playground outside after-school program

6:00—Tate kneeling in front of Declan in the woods

Dear Lined Piece of Paper,

I get the feeling people here think I’m weird. I’m trying to do what Dr. Adams says and focus and stay interested in what they are doing. Ask them questions about their lives. But mostly what I want to do is watch movies. You would think there would be plenty of kids at this school who would be down with such a simple thing like that. But no. The pretty Tate girl is still on my mind constantly. I invited her over but I don’t think she understood what it is I’m trying to do.

I’m starting to make money on the films. I’ve decided to call it an encyclopedia or a directory. A person can buy an individual entry or the whole directory. The individual entry is five thousand dollars. The whole encyclopedia is fifty thousand dollars. I could make an insane amount of money in a very short time. Enough to finance my long film. Enough to do it all by myself.

I feel like she alone could understand if she would just let herself—if she would be with me alone and let me talk to her. I feel like the two of us could make movies that would change the way everyone thought. The kind of movie I made back in Virginia with Eric.