Two weeks into the summer, classes are done, and everyone at school has become like me – unseen in real life, existing only on Facebook. They're posting photos at music festivals, beaches, patios and barbeques, and I know them all more now than when I saw them every day.

In my bedroom, the drapes are closed and I'm not sure if it's light or dark out. With no schedule, there is no day and night, only sleep and wakefulness.

Simon has 1309 friends on Facebook now, plus a few dozen friend requests that I didn't approve.

I've been chatting with Nadia everyday. She's now in Winnipeg visiting her Dad, and we've been chatting for two hours straight.

She says she has to sleep soon, and I'm about to type something back when she sends me a request to video chat.

Holy shit.

I pause, not sure what to do. I open her video window. I can see her streaming through her webcam, but I don't allow her to see me through mine. She's wearing a t-shirt two sizes too big. She's cute without make up. On the wall behind her is a corkboard with photo booth strips pinned to it.

"Open your cam," she says, her voice like baby lotion, even through my shitty speakers.

I type:

10:04pm

Simon Jackson

It's broken...

"Boo! You suck!" She mocks. "Anyway, I just wanted to give you something?"

Nadia kisses her open hand then blows it to me. She smiles her crooked smile, then poof, the video window closes.

Then she types:

10:05pm

Nadia Ricci

Goodnight Simon ;)

I swallow the saliva I only noticed now building in my mouth and begin to type goodnight when she goes offline.

I feel something rising up in my belly, something familiar that I only felt once before—at the rave, when the molly took over my body.