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passes by my window as we speed down the road. “Where’s this place at?”
    “The Shack?” Tank asks, his voice smooth.
    “Uh, sure. Is that the place we’re going to?”
    “Yup.” His answer is short. “It’s not too much farther.”
    “It’s a giant barn,” Zoe adds. “It’s not on school property. Honestly, I don’t know whose property it’s on, but it’s huge. Over the years, it’s become sort of like a hangout spot. Each senior class shows the incoming athletic teams the place.”
    “I’m not in a sport. Does that matter? I don’t want to be the girl who gets kicked out of the party. That would be super lame.”
    “Usually it would, but you’re Tank’s date tonight, remember? He’s on the baseball team, so don’t worry about it.”
    I watch in the rearview mirror as a grin spreads across her brother’s face as he drives.
    “What about you Ryle, are you on a team at Braxton?” I question, honestly not knowing if he’ll even answer.
    “Yup,” he mumbles under his breath.
    He’s not big on conversation, either. Duly noted.
    We ride in silence, listening to the radio for the last few miles of our ride.
    “Welcome to The Casa de Shack,” Tank announces five minutes later, as he puts the car into park.
    The passenger side door opens and then shuts with a loud thud, and I realize that Ryle didn’t leave it open for me to climb out. This dude really has issues. I slide over to Zoe’s seat and climb out from the driver’s side door.
    “Told you he was off limits. As if any girl could even stand to be around him long enough.” She wraps her arm through the bend in mine.
    When they said we were going to a barn called The Shack, I admit a smidge of worry crossed my mind. Now that we’re here, I have no doubt that this is going to be a blast. The building is technically a barn, but it’s not what I envisioned. It’s impressive. My mind had conjured up an unsteady structure that might collapse at any given moment. What’s in front of us is a massive building with what appears to be newish red paint on the outside. Nothing’s falling apart. That’s another plus.
    The lot is pitch dark other than a handful of vehicles that still have their lights on. Crowds of people are standing together, hovering around different cars. It looks like they’re smearing paint on one another.
    “My lady,” Tank holds his hand out to me. “Could I have the honor of painting you tonight?” He’s bold and slightly cheesy, but I believe he’s harmless, and because of that, I find him adorable. In a brotherly way.
    “Of course,” I grin playfully.
    Tank lets me choose what colors I’d like to be painted. I pick neon green and pink. As he dabs the paint on, he’s careful not to get too touchy feely. I appreciate his gesture, but all I can think about is how jealous I am of Zoe, as I watch Ryle’s hands glide up and down her exposed arms. She looks about as uninterested as a blind woman standing directly in front Michelangelo’s David, which eases my jealously some. But then again, as he continues to stroke his hand on her flawless skin, my jealously meter goes haywire.
    “Warrior Princess,” Tank huskily whispers into my ear.
    I stare blankly at him. “What?”
    “I gave you warrior stripes.” He pauses and looks at me strangely, like I should understand what he’s telling me. “Your face. I put a line of paint under each eye like a warrior going into battle. It’s cute.”
    Thank goodness it’s dark , I muse, as my face heats up. I didn’t even notice him painting my face. I’d been too preoccupied staring at Ryle.
    After several introductions to people I know I won’t remember tomorrow, things seem to blur together. My feet feel like cement blocks are tied to them. I practically have to walk with my hands out in front of me as I make my way from the keg in the center of the dark barn back to where my new friends are standing. As much as I want to blame it on the darkness of the barn, I