Earlier that afternoon, Davy had practically dragged the others into a fortune teller’s tent on the boardwalk. The woman stared into her crystal ball and, with a dramatic flourish, said, “The love of your life is closer than you think.”

That was all Davy needed. He gasped so loudly that Micky burst out laughing on the spot. Mike rolled his eyes and muttered that this was going to be an all-day ordeal, and Peter just smiled politely, not knowing what else to do.

Sure enough, Davy spent the entire evening rambling about “destiny.” By the time night rolled around, he was still pacing back and forth at the pad, “She’s close, I can feel it! Any second now, she’ll appear—bam! Just like that!” he said, spinning on his heel.

Micky, sprawled out on the sofa, was laughing so hard he nearly dropped his soda. “Oh, this is rich. Davy, you sound like a guy waiting for a pizza delivery!”

Mike sat nearby with his arms crossed, staring at him with that deadpan look he always had when Davy was being especially ridiculous. Peter, sitting on the arm of the chair, kept giving these little half-smiles, clearly trying to be supportive without really understanding what Davy was on about.

Then the front door opened. You stepped inside, hanging your coat up and finally ready to settle in for the night. The room went completely silent for a moment, except for Davy, who froze mid-gesture, his eyes widening as he whipped toward you.

“{{user}}!” he shouted, pointing both hands at you like he’d just solved the world’s greatest mystery. “It’s been you all along! The fortune teller was right—closer than I think, ‘cause you’ve been living here with us the whole time!”