“What was that about?” Harper asked.

“What do you mean?”

Her best friend gave her a look.

“He invited me to a party.”

“At Flaherty’s?” Harper said, her mouth agape. Of course she’d already been invited. They were best friends, both bookish young women, but Harper had a wild side, and drifted seamlessly between social groups. One day it was a movie and pizza at Maggie’s, the next hiking with the nature club, the next a rager with the jocks.

“Yeah. He said it was more of a get-together than a party, though.”

Harper shook her head, like Maggie was being naive. “And…?”

“And I don’t know. You know how my dad feels about parties.”

“Mags, we’re graduating and you haven’t been to a single party. You haven’t had one drink. And don’t get me started about sex. Do you really want to go to college so, like, pathetic?”

Maggie swatted her friend with a sheath of papers.

“Come on, let’s go tonight,” Harper said.

“Let me think about it.”

“What’s to think about? You’re sleeping over at my house anyway, so you don’t have to ask your dad. And if the party sucks, we leave.”

Maggie wanted to go. Wanted to see Eric. But she didn’t like sneaking around. Didn’t like the betrayal of a house party, of all things. “I’ll think about it.”

And think about it she did.

By ten that night Maggie and Harper were pulling up to Mike Flaherty’s house in the back of an Uber.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Maggie watched as the group on the front porch cleared a path for two boys carrying a keg of beer up the steps and through the large front doors. Flaherty’s dad owned a chain of car dealerships, and the place was a sprawling McMansion. The Uber driver honked at some kids who were blocking the half-circle driveway.

“Relax,” Harper said. “It’s gonna be fun. And you look amazing.”

Maggie tugged up her top. She’d borrowed it from Harper, and it showed way too much cleavage. She’d also made the mistake of letting Harper do her makeup. And she’d nixed her glasses for contacts. They felt like grains of sand under her eyelids every time she blinked.

Inside, Maggie’s stomach churned at the scene: a throng of kids bouncing to the beat of pounding dance music, the smell of beer, sweat, and weed.

“Where are his parents?” Maggie asked. It was her first ever high school party. She hadn’t expected it to be so, well, cliché.

Harper shrugged. She led Maggie through the great room, which was now a dance floor filled with kids twerking and grinding. There was even a cheesy DJ bobbing behind a sound system.