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her eyes coyly. She felt very sexy, sitting in her window in her white silk Hanro pajamas, smoking a cigarette, like something out of a Tennessee Williams play. “It’s, um, a little after curfew.”
    “We like to live dangerously,” Julian replied, yawning. Tinsley turned her head to look at him. He was just as cute as she remembered, even with her blurred vision.
    “Oh, yeah? Looking for ’shrooms again?” Tinsley kicked her hanging leg against the brick wall of Dumbarton and flicked her cigarette into the grass below.
    Heath stepped on it with his sneaker and smashed it into the ground. “Look, we have a situation here.” There was a worried look on Heath’s normally laid-back face. He pointed at the UFOs. “We have six half-kegs that need a home.”
    Tinsley stared at the glistening silver lumps. Six half-kegs? “Why did you bring them
here?”
    Julian grinned and ran a hand through his shaggy blond hair. “As a present to you? An offering?”
    “Can you hold the bullshit for a second, sweetheart?” Heath looked like he was wired on caffeine pills or something. “How about we work on problem-solving and save the flirting for later?”
    “Why don’t you just put them up on the roof?” Tinsley suggested innocently, shrugging and indicating the fire escape at the corner of the building that led all the way to the roof. This would be quite entertaining to watch. “No one will find them there.”
    “Brilliant!” Heath slapped his forehead. “I knew you’d think of something.” He pushed Julian toward the kegs. “Grab one. We’ll take it up the fire escape.”
    Boys are so dumb. Incredulously, and with a little too much pleasure, Tinsley watched as the two of them awkwardly lugged one of the half-keg barrels up the rickety wrought-iron fire escape, trying desperately not to make noise. She snickered. Were they high or just morons?
    By the time they got back to the ground, Tinsley had had a change of heart. “Listen, I just heard the freaky girl next door head into the shower.” Maybe the quiet girl who only showered when no one else around had a use after all. She’d be honored. “Why don’t I just let you in the back door—you can sneak them into her room. She’s got a single. I bet they’ll fit under her bed.”
    She took her time sliding into her cushy Ugg slippers (she hated the boots, but the slippers were okay) and padding down the hall and down the cold marble steps to the back door of Dumbarton. Heath and Julian were waiting for her, gasping from having lugged the half kegs into position.
    “You guys are in bad shape,” Tinsley whispered, pressing herself against the door so that the boys could pass by, each carrying one of the heavy containers in his arms.
    “Why don’t you help us, then?” Heath whispered back crankily, his sneakers, wet with dew, squeaking against the floorboards.
    “I think I’ve done
more
than enough already.” She led them down the hall, noting, as they passed the bathroom, that the shower was still running.
    “Who takes a shower at midnight?” Heath glanced around at all the closed dorm room doors they passed as if imagining the sleeping, naked girls inside. He’d forgotten all about being cranky and looked perfectly blissful.
    “No one you want to know.” Light peeked out from beneath Shower Girl’s closed door and Tinsley threw it open. It was a small room that must have once been a storage closet, as neat and tidy as a monk’s cell. The bed was propped up on giant cinder blocks, raising it a good foot off the hardwood floor.
    “Hot,” Heath whispered, running his hands across the smooth bedspread, which sported an enormous Superman logo. Or maybe it was Batman. Tinsley hated all that superhero shit, but Heath looked like he was about to throw himself down on it and start humping.
    Tinsley slapped his hand off the bed. “Stop drooling over Catwoman and start acting useful. Don’t you have some kegs to hide?” She lifted the edge of the