She breathed deeply, feeling the rise and fall of her own chest, vaguely aware of her surroundings. Then some tiny internal alarm sounded and she opened her eyes wide. Sakura had a small book light on, and she lay in her bed reading a manga. Miho stood by the DVD player, putting a disc back in its case. The movie had ended. “How much did I miss?” Kara murmured, pushing herself up to a sitting position on the futon the girls had set out for her. Sakura looked up from her manga, her short blade of hair a kind of curtain obscuring one eye. “Most of Kiki’s Delivery Service and all of Nausicaa.” Kara scowled at her. “No way. I saw most of Kiki. And you didn’t . . .” She looked around for a clock and instead stared at Miho. “Tell me you didn’t really watch Nausicaa.” Miho tried to keep a serious face, which must have been difficult enough in her flannel Hello Kitty pajamas. But the girl was a terrible liar. She smirked. “No. Kiki just ended. So much for our Miyazaki marathon.”
