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loved prom—Toby and Wyatt had tipsily made out. Toby was sure this was proof of his feelings for her, despite all of us gently—and then not so gently—telling her that it was probably just the effect of Jägermeister and power ballads. Toby had tried to keep things going when he went back to boarding school, but Wyatt had reverted to treating Toby the way he treated all of us—totally platonically.
    â€œOh my god, I think you’re right,” Toby said, squinting at the brightness of the screen in the darkness, her voice rising with every word. “Why hasn’t he gotten in touch? Oh my god !”
    â€œShh,” I said, glancing around, not wanting to draw any more attention to us than we had to.
    Toby nodded, then looked back at her phone. “Oh my god ,” she said again, in a whisper this time.
    â€œOkay,” Palmer said, stopping in front of a white house that I was relieved to see looked like any other house on the block, no sign of a party unless you were really paying attention to what kind of music you could hear faintly coming from it. “Are we ready? Andie?” I nodded and reached into my purse, then handed over my bottle of Diet Coke—three-quarters full—to her. “Any preferences?”
    â€œAnything but brandy,” I said, making a face. “That did not mix well.”
    Palmer nodded and led the way into the house. I knew Kevin enough to nod at in the halls, but I didn’t think I’d ever actually had a conversation with him, so I was happy to let Palmer go first. I heard Bri and Toby laugh about something as I followed Palmer inside. I looked around and realized it was like pretty much every other party I’d been to. There were groups of people standing around talking or lounging on the couch, and the dining room table had been commandeered for what looked like a pretty major game of beirut. The kitchen counter was covered with bottles and mixers and a half-filled blender, and through the open doors to the patio, I could see a keg. The people who always headed to the edges of people’s yards to smoke were smoking, and I could already see two people standing in the shadows of the living room, talking close, only minutes away from starting to hook up.
    Palmer headed directly to the liquor bottles, and Toby and Bri headed outside to the keg as I scanned the room. I hadn’t texted him that I was coming, but I had a feeling he might be here. From what I’d heard, he and his last girlfriend had ended things around when I’d dumped Zach, meaning we would bothbe unattached at the same time, which hadn’t happened in a while. I was about to give up looking inside and see if he was by the keg when a girl I recognized from my AP Chem class stepped aside. And there he was, leaning against the kitchen counter, looking bored. Topher Fitzpatrick.
    My pulse kicked up, the way it always did when I saw him. I took him in for a moment longer, since I was sure he hadn’t spotted me yet. There was a petite girl talking to him. I didn’t recognize her, and she was laughing, smiling up at him while he gave her a smile she probably thought was genuine, and an invitation to keep talking. I knew better. But then, by this point, I probably knew him better than most people.
    He looked away for a second, scanning the room, and his eyes met mine. I held his gaze for just a second, but it was enough to know my evening had just taken a turn for the better.
    â€œHere,” Palmer said as she appeared at my elbow with the Diet Coke bottle, the top firmly on. “It’s rum. I mixed it up.”
    â€œThank you,” I said, giving her a smile as I took the bottle. It was the only way I let myself drink at parties. If any pictures from the night got posted, the only thing I would be drinking, or even holding in my hand, was a Diet Coke. I knew only too well that all it would take was someone’s cell phone picture on their