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Although we’d missed stepping into a big mess, the street was trashed.
    â€œMine, too. Definitely.”
    I smiled up at him, not sure why I suddenly felt very comfortable around him. Maybe it was the revelry surrounding us. Maybe it was everyone shouting and laughing and having a great time. The attitude was contagious, something I wanted to embrace.
    I was suddenly very glad to be sharing all this with a guy. Not even Brady particularly, just a guy. Because it seemed like the kind of partying that required holding hands and being part of a couple.
    People were acting wild, crazy, totally uninhibited. Dancing, yelling, hugging, kissing, laughing. It wasn’t all because of the drinking going on. Sure, some people were drinking freely in the streets, weaving in and out of the crowds. I’m certain a lot of them were drunk on booze, but many were simply drunk on having a good time.
    When everyone around you doesn’t care what anyone else thinks, why should you?
    A guy bumped into us, staggered back, and raised his fist in the air. “Rock on!”
    He swerved away, hit a lamppost. “Rock on!”
    Brady drew me nearer. “That dude’s going to be seriously hung over in the morning if he already can’t tell the difference between a post and a person.”
    â€œAre you speaking from experience?”
    I didn’t know why I asked that. It was rude. But I think I was looking for a flaw. He couldn’t be this perfect. I wanted him to be not so nice.
    He grinned. Obviously he didn’t take offense at what I’d said.
    â€œI refuse to answer that question on the grounds that it might incriminate me.”
    â€œWhat are you—a law student?”
    â€œArchitecture. We’re all architecture majors. It’s part of the reason we’re here.”
    â€œTo help rebuild.”
    â€œThat, and to appreciate what remains.”
    He made it sound so noble, so…un-Drew. The only thing Drew had appreciated was the spotlight, which hadn’t bothered me at the time, because it had made him—made us—seem special. I’d never considered him self-centered or selfish, but now I wasn’t so sure.
    Brady and I walked in tandem, followingTank and Jenna. Their height made them easy to keep in sight.
    The street didn’t have a shortage of bars, which you’d probably expect of a street named Bourbon, although the name didn’t really refer to booze. At the time New Orleans was founded by the French, the French royal family was the House of Bourbon and Rue Bourbon was named to honor them. Yes, I’d spent a lot of time on Wikipedia, looking up facts that were probably only interesting to me. Which is why I didn’t share that one with Brady.
    We stopped just outside a corner daiquiri bar. The huge doors were wide open. People walked in, got their drinks, and strolled out. Behind the counter were several huge vats of frozen drinks, so it didn’t take very long to get served. The tables inside were crammed with people watching a baseball game on the TV hanging on the wall.
    â€œI don’t get that,” Brady said.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou’ve got all this stuff happening out here, and people are in there watching TV. I canwatch TV at home. Why come here if that’s what you’re going to do?”
    â€œMaybe New Orleans is their home.”
    â€œMaybe.”
    â€œOr maybe they’re huge baseball fans.”
    â€œStill. I believe you gotta experience life, not watch it.”
    He looked at me like he thought I should agree. I didn’t know what to say. Up until this summer, my experiences were pretty limited. I didn’t want to get into an experience-listing competition.
    â€œI’m making a run,” Tank suddenly said.
    He went inside, leaving Jenna on the sidewalk. She had her cell phone out, pointed it at me, took a picture, and winked. For her MySpace page, no doubt. As proof to Drew that I’d