She's taken the time to straighten up a little bit-- making the bed, mostly so there's an even surface to lay the cards on, and throwing her own discarded things into the hamper. His clothes, aside from the shirt, are heaped on a chair.

Now, she's stretched on tip-toes to pull a box off a shelf in her closet-- a wooden one about the size of a book, clearly old enough to be another teenage relic. She brings it over and sits on her side of the bed, opening it to reveal a dark blue drawstring bag, faded satin printed with silver stars and moons.

She draws out the deck and sets the box aside, and gives the cards a quick shuffle.

"You need to think of a question-- not something about the future. Maybe-- think about a memory, some story you've never told me. Focus, and shuffle these until they feel right."

She offers him the deck.