Cassie stuffed his shirt into the backpack and started stripping down herself. It's a bit weird to be doing this on a roof, instead of at poolside or at a beach, and it's definitely weird to be doing it in something more like her sixteen-year-old body.

"I think the wind just wants us to redefine 'walk of shame' for this reality," she says, hovering in a seated position as she peels off her socks. "After all, no one here can fly except us. A 'flight of shame' would set the bar so high, no one else would ever be able to reach it."

She crams her socks into the bag and stands up, still in her sports bra and panties. It's enough like a bathing suit that she can still pretend she's not about to strip down completely naked on a rooftop. Just because she knows no one will see them (or maybe even can see them) doesn't mean that her hindbrain isn't jabbering at her about it.

"So, how do we drop the illusion? My rack hasn't come in yet at this age, and I'm pretty sure you miss that too."