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She walked through the rest of the apartment, letting out an involuntary Ooh at the size of the bedroom, the walk-in closet, and the modern, freestanding bathtub. The one thing she wasn’t sure about was the windows: They were huge, almost floor to ceiling, and they didn’t appear to have blinds or curtains. Maybe Phoebe liked the openness, but it made Arden feel exposed. She shivered.

In the kitchen, she found a note like the one she had left for Phoebe. It explained how to use the heat and Wi-Fi and where to drop off garbage, recycling, and compost.

It was just past four in the afternoon, but it was dark outside, and it was dinnertime back on the East Coast. She opened the fridge. It was almost completely bare aside from a carton of eggs, a stick of butter, some cans of seltzer, and a few apples in a drawer. She was almost embarrassed to consider the state in which she had left her own refrigerator: She had tossed all her old leftovers before she’d left, but there was still produce, yogurt, cow’s milk and oat milk, and condiments galore.

Arden cracked open a can of grapefruit-flavored seltzer and opened the food-delivery app on her phone. There were so many restaurants here. When she opened this app at home, she had five restaurants within delivery distance. Here, the list just kept on going. Her stomach rumbled in anticipation. She could hardly wait to settle in on the comfy-looking couch with a bowl of Thai food as she scrolled through Netflix on that sleek TV.

But something tugged at the back of her mind, like she had homework she’d forgotten to do.

Her list.

Phoebe had planted the idea in her mind, and Arden had run with it. On the flight, she had written a list of things to do to distract herself from the funk she was in. Not only to distract herself but to pull herself out of it.

In fact, she had titled it “How to Become a Better, More Confident Version of Me Who Knows What She’s Worth and Won’t Settle for Less.”

Which might have been a bit much, but that was the vibe Arden was going for. She wanted to treat herself like she was a bit much—in a good way.

On the couch, she opened her planner to the page on which she’d written the list.

Go on a solo trip

Eat dinner at a restaurant by myself

Do not check social media for a full week

Take early-morning walks

Read a nonfiction book about a topic that interests me

Find a new hobby

Make eye contact and smile when meeting new people

Take myself out to a show

Practice gratitude daily

No more Peter Blake

Happily, she placed a checkmark next to Go on a solo trip. And yes, she had included that one just for the pleasure of checking it off. Knowing she was already making a dent in the list was good for morale.

Arden had also written a Seattle-specific list comprising some recommendations she had found on a solo female travel blog.

Seattle:

Space Needle

Pike Place Market

Chihuly glass museum

Fremont troll

Different coffee shop every day

Nutcracker ballet

See the skyline from Kerry Park