Finals are over. Tonight is my last hurrah as a junior. Tomorrow will be my last day living in the dorms. The girls and I have signed a lease on an apartment near to campus for next school year. I feel happy, and it has nothing to do with the strawberry margaritas flowing through my veins. “Now, Lil, phone on the table,” Jess instructs, sitting across the booth from me at our favorite Mexican restaurant. I sigh and place my cell facedown on the four-phone tower we have going on in the center of the table. “There. Now, whoever checks her phone first pays the tab,” Jess reminds us. She saw some meme on f*******: about placing all the phones on the table like this to allow us to better concentrate on our real-life friends and not our social media ones. “This is stupid.” Tabitha pouts. I

