Alone on the bed, Tally touches her own face. Her fingers come away gray with the paint, and she rolls her eyes. She's got to get Gideon to wear it less, or seal it better, even if she's totally used to the look by now. She scrubs at it with the neck of her sweatshirt until she looks presentable, feeling an equal mix of self-consciousness and excitement.

Wait, now she has paint all over her sweatshirt. She is utterly brain-missing. She pulls it off to reveal the tank top underneath, grateful for the cooler air on her arms and neck. She pitches the sweatshirt across the room, not particularly caring where it ends up.