Moth lives in the same rich part of town that Patti, Sean, and Emma do, but the house's style isn't quite Patti's proper colonial or Sean's mid century modern or Emma's... whatever, I'm honestly not sure, it was so dark. His house's style completely matches his, as if it was built specifically for him.

It's a smaller house for this neighborhood, probably only 4 bedrooms instead of a billion, and it's covered in sky blue siding, complemented by two trellises covered in vining purple passion flowers on either side of the bright red door. From Thatcher's parking spot, we can spot the backyard hanging globe lights stretching from one of the upstairs bedrooms down to the furthest edge of their back porch.

Without texting Moth, I can already tell his parents are also throwing a party. I've been here a handful of times at this point, so I know that when the backyard globe lights are on, Moth's parents are partaking in the festivities, grownups in the back, kids inside. To avoid too many kids drinking, of course, but Moth's sister just turned twenty-one and her parents definitely saw her drinking before her birthday without any complaint, so... who knows how much they care.

I smile down at my promise ring as I get out of Thatcher's car and meet him on the sidewalk.

"What's wrong with it?" Thatcher asks, alarmed.

I laugh. "Nothing, it's perfect. I'm just admiring it."

"Phew," he says, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. Then, he extends a bent arm to me, the one that isn't carrying Patti's box of macarons. "M' lady?"

I link arms with him, his short girlfriend, and together, we walk toward the sound of Jimmy Buffet blaring from the back porch of the Boone house.

"Janie, Thatcher!" Mrs. Boone announces as we approach the steps leading up to their back porch from their neatly cut lawn. "Everyone, these are two of Timmy's friends from school, they went to Hollywood with him earlier this year for the show."

I will never not love the fact that Moth's parents and all of their friends know him as Timmy. Hearing them call him that is literally my favorite part of coming to Moth's house.

All of their friends, about 10-15 other forty to fifty-year-olds, cheer for Thatcher and I as we step closer to the bar Moth's parents built on their back porch. It's a little pretty typical little tiki hut sort of bar, which the Boones have decorated with beer bottle tops from all the many, many beers they've consumed. Tonight's drink isn't beer, though; it's something fruity and pink that Mrs. Boone must have prepared for the occasion, because it's in her own glass pitcher.

Mrs. Boone steps closer to me to whisper, "Timmy told me he told you about his agent. We are all celebrating his success out here. Inside, I'm told, it's strictly a Patti party."

"That's right," I say.

She winks. "Enjoy."

I laugh. Mrs. Boone is a character, just like her son. "Thanks, Mrs. Boone."

I lead Thatcher toward the sliding glass door between the porch and the kitchen, where I can already see some of our theater friends, and he asks, "What did she whisper to you?"

Thatcher still doesn't know about Moth leaving for Hollywood on the weekends, and as much as I want to tell Thatcher, it isn't my news to tell.

"Oh... just that we look cute together," I lie.

Ouch, my heart hurts from lying to him. My first instinct is to immediately take it back and tell him the truth, but I'm already sliding the glass door open and we are already stepping inside to the kids' party. There's no telling anyone now. This night is about Patti.

"Where's Timmy?" Thatcher asks once we're inside and can't be heard making fun of Moth by the grownups.

Moth appears from a group of our friends chatting around his kitchen island, directly ahead of us on the left, and hits Thatcher on the arm.

"That's Mr. Timmy to you." They guy hug each other, quickly wrapping their arms around one another to give a pat on the back before separating again. "You brought macarons, dude? That's so awesome." He turns around and searches his house. "Yo, where's Patti? Patti! Come here, girl. Thatch and Janie brought you a treat."

Patti emerges from Moth's living room with Bryson close behind. "Is that from Le Grand Macaron? Did you bring my macarons?" she asks, her voice gradually getting louder, despite walking closer to us.

Thatcher laughs. "Of course, what would your send off be without your favorite treats? It was Janie's idea."

"But Thatcher paid," I say, giving him credit where credit is due. She needs to know we will both equally miss her.

She pouts. "Thank you both so much. Actually, thank you all so much, my misfits. I don't know if I've ever felt more loved than I do tonight. You didn't have to throw me a party."

"It's not just us who love you, Patti Cakes. Just you wait 'til you see what Sean and I put together for you," Moth says.

"You two put something together?" I ask.

He smiles slyly and lifts his eyebrows up. "We're going to have some fun."

"I'm officially scared," Patti says.

"As am I," Thatcher adds.

Moth moonwalks away, smiling like a weirdo, but not giving us any other hints about what he and Sean could have possibly planned that he'd be so excited about.

Thatcher leaves the box of macarons with Patti, who begins explaining her love for them to Bryson, while he and I grab some non-alcoholic beverages from the fridge: a Mountain Dew for him and a Coke Zero for me.

Pretty much the whole Ensemble Theater Company is here, stuffed into Moth's first floor. It isn't open like Sean's was, so people lean against walls and move depending on their interest. The kitchen is for food and drinks, so Thatcher and I grab a plate of pizza and cookie cake to go with our sodas before moving into the next space.

The living room is for conversations. The front foyer is apparently for making out, or at least that's what Greg and his boyfriend, who isn't in Ensemble, are using it for. The bathroom is for touching up makeup and taking pictures for Snapchat and Instagram, or at least that's what Taylor and Layla are doing. At least they came. With the history Layla and Patti have together, I'm honestly surprised.

We take a seat on the piano bench in the living room, a space painted bright yellow with colorful picture frames filling the wall behind the cobalt blue couch, and join in the conversation. Sean and Emma are sitting beside one another on the couch discussing Homecoming. Perfect.

"I think all the guys should wear colorful suits, so we stand out, you know?" Sean says.

"Why can't the girls wear colorful suits?" Emma asks.

He rolls his eyes dramatically. "I think anyone who wants to should wear a colorful suit. We should look like a rainbow unicorn's vomit on the dance floor."

A few of us laugh, including me and Thatcher. "Why vomit, though?" Thatcher asks.

"You know, 'cause it spills out everywhere?"

"Ew, Sean," Emma laughs, slapping his arm. "Are you two even going to be allowed in?"

"Do you think Dr. Howard really remembers that?" I ask.

"Dr. Howard's brain is a vault, my friends. Freshmen year, I got lost on my way to the library. He found me wandering around the foreign language wing, and he still jokes around it every time he sees me in the hall. I'm sure he remembers the time he banned you from Homecoming," Sean says.

"We will sneak you in," Emma says with a wave of her hand.

"How?"

She shakes her head. "A magician never reveals her secrets. No, we'll disguise you. Those mothers who take the tickets won't notice and we'll get other people to buy yours from the office."

"Disguises?" Thatcher asks.

"Sure, a wig for Janie, and, I don't know, sunglasses for you."

"We may have to make you shorter," Sean adds.

We laugh. "We'll figure it out. So, you in for colorful suits?"

"I know for a fact Timmy over there already has one, so why not?" Thatcher jokes.

"What about the girls?" I ask.

"You know how the guys always have to match their cummerbund and shit with the girls' clothes?" Emma asks.

I nod.

"We'll reverse it. Now you have to find a dress to match the guy's suit."

"Love it," Sean says, smacking the coffee table as if he is a judge delivering a final sentence.

"I hope I can come home for it," Patti adds. "Will someone get me a ticket too?"

"I will, babe," Bryson says.

I stifle a giggle.

Moth appears in the opening between the kitchen and the living room. "Are we ready?" he asks Sean.

"Yep," Sean says, standing up from the couch. "Ladies and gentlemen... let's retire to the basement. Follow Moth."

Thatcher and I quickly scarf down the rest of our food before Emma herds us back into the kitchen where a door leads us down into a finished basement. This is where I've spent the most time here at Moth's house, because this is where his big screen TV and the most comfortable couches I've ever sat on are. This is where the four of us misfits had a few movie nights over the summer, until he and Patti broke up and things were momentarily awkward.

Once I'm down the stairs, I see what the surprise is: Sean set his whole theater green screen and equipment up here. We are going to film something for Sean and Emma's YouTube channel. Or at least, for ourselves. Like a theater kid yearbook, we will be able to remember each other for our acting before Patti leaves... and before Moth starts going away too.

"Are we filming?" Thatcher asks excitedly, apparently also putting together the clues.

"Oh yes," Moth says, rubbing his hands together.

"Does everyone have to?" Greg asks, possibly for his boyfriend's sake.

"Yes, everyone is getting up here at least once. We need to memorialize this moment," Emma answers. "It might be the last time we are all together."

My stomach twists considering that possibility. Patti will come back, though... right? She won't be gone forever. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves at the thought.

Patti is one of the last people downstairs, and she begins clapping and cheering when she sees the set up. "Are we going to do improv?" she asks.

"You got it, sister," Emma says.

"So, everyone take a seat," Sean instructs us as he finally descends the stairs. "We have a few improv games that Emma, Moth, and I thought would be fun to do and film for a video for all of us to have to remember our full group. If we want, we can put it on Emma and my channel, but that wasn't our intention."

It suddenly hits me what I'm getting into: I am terrible at improv. I cannot for the life of me think on my feet like I need to in order to be good at this. I love Patti and this idea and all, but this is going to be awful.

"We wrote all of your names on pieces of paper  in this bowl," Emma says, lifting a clear fish bowl from the floor beside the green screen, "and we will call you up to be in different scenes that way. This will ensure everyone gets up to act at least once, and then we can start volunteering if we want."

"The first game shall be Party Host," Sean announces. "Patti, my darling girl, you are our first host."

"Wow, did my name really just come out of the bowl for this?" she asks as she stands and comes forward.

"No, honey, you're the reason we're all here, so we wanted you to be the first host," Emma answers her.

"Oh," she laughs, "duh."

"Okay, first guest to join her will be," Sean starts as he reaches into the bowl Emma holds out for him, "Wow, Bryson!"

He leaps up and joins Patti in front of the green screen with a hug. As funny as I think him calling her 'babe' is, he does seem nice. He makes her feel special. Maybe I shouldn't laugh at their pet names.

Sean pulls out two more names. "Taylor, girl, get up there," he says first. Then, "And Janie! Wow, almost all juniors."

Ugh, I think, but at least I will get this over with, and someone will tell me what I should be doing up there.

I've watched this game on Whose Line is it Anyway? with Thatcher. Patti will act like she's getting ready for a party, and then one at a time, she will welcome us in. Each of us will have a secret identity that only us and the audience know about, and through our interactions with Patti, she will have to guess who we are. Once she correctly guesses who I am, I can leave the party. I think I can fumble through this well enough to have Patti guess who I am and get off "stage" 'as quickly as possible.

Patti runs upstairs with Emma while Sean guides the rest of the Ensemble in giving us identities for Patti to guess.

"Who is Bryson?"

"A horse!"

"A nun!"

"Spider man!"

"I heard a horse," Sean says.

Bryson laughs. "Ok, I can make that work, I guess."

"What about Taylor?"

"A hypochondriac!"

"A lady of the night!"

"A nun!"

"I heard hypochondriac," Sean says. "What's with you and nuns tonight, Archie?"

Archie, Moth's mentor, laughs with a shrug.

"And finally, what about Janie?" Sean asks.

Please be kind, I think.

"A nun!"

"A hippie!"

"A fortune teller!"

Sean rolls his eyes. "Fine, Archie, I heard nun."

Great. At least nuns are pretty chill, right? I might be able to do this.

"Okay, so Bryson you'll come in first, then Taylor, then Janie. Ready? Okay, Emma, bring down our host," Sean calls.

Patti practically hops down the stairs and up to the "stage" area. Sean steps behind the camera and within moments, says, "Action!"

Patti instantly transforms into a hostess, setting up imaginary things around the room, and counting imaginary supplies before Bryson knocks on the wall.

"Coming!" Patti calls. "Hello, welcome to the party."

Bryson falls to his knees and enters on all fours, neighing. Ugh, his is so easy. He'll be out of here as soon as Patti can start kicking us out.

"Wow, welcome. May I ride you over to the drinks, get you some water, perhaps?"

Bryson rears up as if to say yes, and Patti sits on his back, as though she's riding side saddle. I can tell she wants to laugh, but she's holding it in while everyone in the audience laughs.

Taylor knocks on the wall.

"Water is in the trough over there, I'll be right back," Patti tells Horse Bryson as she hops off and heads toward the imaginary door.

"Hi," she greets Taylor, "welcome."

"Hey there," Taylor says, scratching at her skin. "Sorry I was late, I thought I had poison ivy earlier, I still might. The internet said maybe."

"Oh no, well, I think I have some aloe over here somewhere. Come on in," Patti says.

"Thanks, I feel sort of dizzy now, I probably have a brain tumor," Taylor says.

The group laughs. I never noticed, because Taylor's always been in Layla's shadow, but she's actually pretty funny.

It's my turn to knock, I think. I take a deep breath, and knock three times against Moth's basement wall. Here we go!

"Well, I sure hope you don't. I'll be right back to check on you, let me just answer the door."

Patti approaches me, so I place my palms together at my heart. You're a nun, get thee to a nunnery, I tell myself.

She opens the imaginary door between us and greets me with a big, warm 'Hello.'

"Hello, Sister," I say.

The sides of Patti's lips briefly curl into a smile. "Well, hello. Welcome. I hope it's alright that I have wine here," she says.

Thank goodness she seems to know what I'm supposed to be, I think. I enter the imaginary party. I can't think of what a nun would call the wine at a church service, so I respond with, "Peace be with you and also with the wine."

The group laughs. Oh my gosh, I got a laugh!

Now that we're all at the party, Patti is allowed to start guessing who we are and getting us off stage. She starts with Bryson.

"How was that water from the trough? Was it cool enough for a big horse like you?"

Sean makes a bell sound from his phone to alert her that she correctly guessed Bryson's identity.

Bryson rears up again with a proud neigh. He's sort of goofy, like us misfits too. He might make a good addition to our little group yet.

"May I ride you to the door?" Patti asks him.

He nods with another neigh, and she sits back on him, side saddle again, like the lady she is. The group laughs as he carries her to the other end of the party, where I'm still standing, signing as many crosses as I can, because, honestly, I'm not sure what else to do as a nun. My mom and I aren't really church going people, and even if we were, we aren't Catholic and no one in our family is Catholic. All I know about nuns I learned from Sister Act, which I haven't seen in years.

Patti stands up from Bryson's back after shooing his horse self out the door. The group applauds his performance as he stands up and joins everyone sitting down behind the camera.

Now Patti focuses on me. "Hello, Sister, how are you enjoying my party so far?"

"It's quite... holy."

Chuckles from the audience.

"Great, so great to hear it. I've never had a nun over to see my house, but I think now that you're here to bless it, you'd better go. We're about to get crunk in here."

The audience laughs at Patti's joke, and Sean rings the bell.

Thank goodness I can sit down, I think. Although, after getting my first laugh, I am a little disappointed I didn't get another one before I was found out.

I bow my head and place my palms together at my chest again. "Peace be with you," I say again.

"And also with you," Patti responds, and gets another laugh while I walk off. The group applauds me as I walk off the stage and rejoin Thatcher in the crowd.

He pulls me into his side and kisses my head. "Great job, kid," he whispers.

Now it's only Taylor on stage with Patti.

"How's your head?" Patti asks.

"Oh, I definitely have a tumor. But I stubbed my toe on your table since then, and I think it might be broken. My poison ivy is definitely getting worse, I think, too," Taylor replies, scratching her arms again.

"You can be honest with me... you're not sick, are you? You're a junkie?"

The crowd laughs, but Sean shakes his head. Not the right guess.

"No way, I would never hurt my body like that, it's fragile enough as it is. I would probably immediately get a heart attack and die. In fact, I think it's pounding harder just at your suggestion," Taylor responds.

Patti nods knowingly. "Just take a deep breath, you're not going to die at my party. You're okay, you are just someone who always thinks there is something wrong with them."

Sean moves from side to side, deliberating on whether or not that's an acceptable guess, but Emma gives him the thumbs up. Patti defined a hypochondriac, after all.

He rings the bell on his phone, and Patti smiles.

"How dare you accuse me of being a hypochondriac," Taylor says, clutching her chest. "Now, I must go to the hospital. This has all been too much for my body to handle."

Taylor hobbles off stage, getting the biggest laugh from the crowd so far. She should step out of Layla's shadow more often,  I think.

Patti turns to the camera and shrugs. "I need better friends," she says.

"And scene," Sean announces.

We all applaud and Patti takes a bow from the stage area. She looks genuinely happy. In this moment, I think we are all genuinely happy, but I slow my applause as I think back to what Emma said. What if this is the last time we are all together? The thought brings a lump to my throat, but I swallow it away. I have to hold onto this happiness as long as I can, for Patti, for Moth, for myself.

Soon, everything is going to be so much different.