“Niagara Falls looks very dorky today,” Felicity beamed.

  “Why?” I asked.

  She grinned. “Well, because you're in the frame.”

  “Are you sure it isn't Benjamin?” Winona whispered into her ear.

  “Of course not. He’s nerdy, not dorky,” Felicity giggled.

  “So it’s Dork Central, Nerd Province?” Benjamin quipped.

  “Yes!” the girls shouted at us in unison, steadying the camera to take a photo of us against the backdrop of a Niagara Falls sign.

  Felicity had brightened up a bit ever since she’d gotten her fill of Chinese food an hour ago. She’d been a sceptic beforehand, but Winona and her fascination for all things Chinese culinary had somehow been able to convince her that there was gold at the bottom of a Chinese fortune cookie.

  They were getting on a bit more. A bit. Not exactly friends yet, but somehow Chinese food had closed the strong distance between them. Breaking Chinese duck rolls together seemed to make friends out of everyone.

  Me and Benjamin had looked across the table at Mandarin Palace Chinese Restaurant in amazement as we watched both women bury the hatchet after years of backbiting, mutual distaste and bickering between one another. Derogatory names like Navajo Girl and Ms Fancy Fencer seemed like a thing of the past as they shared one chicken ball or another together.

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  If only me and Benjamin had been fortunate enough to share a meal together. Neither of us had been hungry, and still there was a sense of simmering tension underneath between us. We both smiled, but it was horribly faint. This wouldn’t exactly be a photo I would look forward to once we’d left Niagara behind again.

  The camera snapped, and the two girls giggled. How girls seemed to giggle a whole lot when men were underneath their thumb.

  “Now do us!” Winona exclaimed.

  “Yeah, do us!” Felicity slurred out, then she started to hiccup. Did I forget to mention that both girls were high on cheap liquor spirits that Mandarin Palace seemed to have an endless supply of? Benjamin couldn’t drink since he was the designated driver, and I didn’t want to drink because I wanted to see Niagara Falls in all my sober being.

  “Do us! Do us!” Felicity repeated as we stumbled down the steep steps.

  Winona reddened. “Not like, do us, do us,” she mumbled out, embarrassed.

  “Yes, I know, Winona, you wouldn’t want me doing that to you,” I said.

  “Or to Felicity either,” Benjamin tacked on.

  I took the camera from Winona’s hands, and I watched the two girls stumble up the steep hill like the pair of drunken college students they were. I tried to be decent. Not stare at Felicity’s nicely shaped rump in black yoga pants as she made her way up. Or the slim curvature of Winona’s neck wrapped up in all those necklaces she’d crafted under the watchful eye of a Navajo instructional YouTube video.

  The keyword being tried. I didn’t actually succeed. Felicity really did have a nice butt, and Winona really did have a nice neck. I wasn’t sure which of them I preferred, until Benjamin, who was thinking the same thing, elbowed me.