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for the canned music that made Jen grit her teeth. The synthesizer and drum machine marked the song as an eighties tune, something her mom had probably danced to on her prom night.
    Jen headed straight for the candy aisle in search of what she craved. It wasn’t until she’d picked up several prescriptions for her sweet tooth that she remembered her purse was with her wrap back at the rental hall. She’d left everything, phone, license, cash, in the little bag that should’ve been dangling from her wrist. She hoped one of her friends would notice and pick up her things for her.
    What would Joann or Antia think had happened to her? She couldn’t hide out forever. She had to go back to prom. The realization snapped her out of her happy haze.
    She searched for Drake and found him in the next aisle trying to decide between cheese curls and chips. He held them both up for her inspection. “Any preference?”
    “I don’t have any money along. I had to put my stuff back.”
    “Don’t worry about it. Told you, the gummies are on me.”
    “No. That’s okay.”
    He frowned, eyes narrowed, studying her. “What? It’s not a big deal. I can buy the damn candy.”
    “I know.” With drug money. Money you make from dealing drugs. Not just a little pot like tonight but probably other, harder stuff too.
    Did it matter? Was borrowing a couple of bucks from Drake some big ethical issue? She knew that wasn’t what was really bothering her. It was the whole evening unraveling and her pinballing off into this weird alternate world in which she got high with Drake Malinson and hit the convenience store to satisfy the munchies. This was not who she was or how she acted. It was time for the dream to end and for her to return to normal life.
    “I think I should go back. My friends are going to wonder what happened to me.” Drake stared at her another moment, then threw the bags back on the shelf and walked toward her. “Fine. Whatever.” His tone was cool but his lips were pressed tight.
    “I’m sorry. I was having fun, but…”
    “No. I get it. I’ll walk you back.” He brushed past her, heading toward the door.
    “It’s not far. I’ll be okay on my own.”
    Drake stopped and stared down into her eyes. “I’ll walk you back.” Jen followed him out of the store, feeling stupid as the clerk watched them leave without buying anything. She should’ve just let Drake buy a snack. Sharing food with him hardly made this some sort of official date.
    But having him hold her hand earlier and wrapping her arms around him beside the river had made it feel like more than two people who barely knew each other hanging out together. It might not be a date but it was…something. There was attraction between them and a strange bond, for lack of a better word. She liked talking with Drake, even though he didn’t say much and was sometimes rude. She was comfortable with him.
    Except not now. He was walking so fast she had to trot to keep up and his body was as tense as an angry cat’s. She’d pissed him off, hurt his feelings maybe, although how it was her fault she didn’t know. He’d been the first one to say she should go back and face the music and now that she was ready to, he was acting huffy?
    “Hey!” She stopped walking. “Slow down. I can’t walk that fast in these shoes.” Several yards ahead of her, Drake stopped, but he didn’t turn around. He just waited.
    Jen resumed walking, taking her time reaching his side. She looked up at his face, the clenched jaw and the eyes that refused to meet hers. “I don’t know what you’re so mad about.”
    “Nothing. I’m not.”
    “Thanks for listening to me complain and for showing me the dancing fish. And for the pot too, I guess. It was kind of nice to cut loose for once.”
    “But that’s not who you are.” He looked at her at last. “And I’m not the kind of guy you hook up with—even when you’d like to.” His voice was rough and low and brushed her skin like