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only one open door in the middle, and he stopped there, his eyes widening. Angela sat in front of a mirror, looking as if she might kiss it, applying lipstick. She wore a frilly, mint pair of panties and matching bra. She cut her eyes his way and tried to smile as she finished, then she jumped up, and ran into his arms. “You ready to party?”
    “Your mom’s right in there.”
    She furrowed her brow then laughed. “My mom doesn’t care. She’s my best friend.” She smiled sexily. “You saying you don’t like what you see?”
    He smiled as much as his nerves would allow. “Nah, just…” his eyes darted behind him.
    She pulled back and frowned. “Fine, Mr. Scared.” She threw on a thin robe, leaving it untied, and sat back down, pulling out some eyeliner. “Help me pick out my outfit. Those are the three I’ve narrowed it down to.” Her arm shot behind her, to the bed. “You know, whatever you want to see me come out of tonight.” She giggled.
    It was another hour before they left for the party, but it didn’t take long for Angela to make up for any party time they may have lost. She declared how wasted she was and bent an arm, staring at her watch for a long moment, as if it contained a code to be deciphered. “It’s only freaking ten. But…” Angela’s face turned drunkenly serious, “don’t let me drink anymore.”
    Nathan wrapped his arm around her. “I can’t promise I won’t take advantage of you though.”
    Angela laughed and slapped his knee playfully. “Ooh, someone’s found his courage.” She leaned in closer. “And it’s not taking advantage if I’m willing, silly. Oh!” Angela squealed, feigning pleasure. “My phone’s buzzing.” She lifted her hips off the couch and dug the pink phone out of her jeans. “Ugh. Hope. Why is she calling me?” She swiped the phone. “Hey, girl! What’s happening? Why aren’t you at Michael’s party?”
    Nathan started to get up. Angela put a firm hand on his shoulder and shrugged, mouthing, “Where are you going?”
    “Getting a drink.”
    She shook her head and went back to talking, “I know! I’m so drunk!” Her eyes went back to Nathan, “Don’t leave me,” and pursed her lips in disapproval.
    Nathan sighed, sitting back down.
    “Beer pong!” Someone yelled.
    Angela immediately covered the phone. “I’m in!” She giggled back into the cell. “Gotta go, Hope! Beer pong time, baby!” Jumping up, she jogged over to Michael, the host of that evening’s festivities, wrapping an arm around him. “You’re my partner!”
    Nathan got up, picked a Heineken out of the cooler and leaned against a nearby wall to watch Angela play. She bent over suggestively, holding the ping pong ball delicately in her long fingers. Michael didn’t hide his salacious looks at the back of her tight jeans. Nathan was less than entertained.
    Every time one of them managed to get the ball into a cup of beer Angela jumped into Michael’s arms. Every time he missed, she placed a rubbing hand on his chest and playfully scolded him. Mid-game, Angela grabbed a bottle of wine from someone walking by and turned it up, taking a long draw, then threw her hands up, wailing in triumph. “We’re gonna kick your ass, boys!” She taunted the other team.
    “Anytime, baby.” One of them flirted, and then, feeling Nathan’s eyes on him said, “Just kidding, man.”
    Michael threw the next ball over the cups and missed. Angela slapped his butt, telling him to get it together with a throaty laugh. She didn’t even notice Nathan turning away, grabbing his keys to leave.
    ***
    “Somebody give me a cigare—” Angela’s face contorted into an awful grimace. She pushed through the crowd, almost slipping on the floor. The bathroom door was closed. She did a one-eighty toward the front door. She barely made it outside before that big gulp of wine, three shots of Grey Goose, two shots of Patron and innumerable beers cried freedom and painted Michael’s mom’s