A girl in a tuxedo leotard appeared and whispered something in Charlie’s ear. He nodded.

“Me neither, I suppose.” Charlie sighed, sticking out his hand again. “Pleasure to see you, Tyler.” He leaned down and kissed me goodbye, the smooth surface of his clean-shaven cheek brushing hotly against mine. “Come over for supper. We miss you.”

“I will,” I promised.

Tyler watched him walk away. “How long have you known them?” he asked.

“Her? Twenty years, give or take. We were childhood pen pals. Friends, sort of.”

“Him?”

“I’ve only met him a few times,” I said, “but he’s a nuclear flirt.” I wandered into the grass and looked up at the stars. One broke free from the Milky Way and barreled across the sky; I looked around to see if anyone else had seen it, but the crowd around me was busy, talking and laughing, everyone except for a golden-blond woman on the other side of the yard, sitting on the Goldsworthy wall all alone. There was something familiar about her. Like so many other people at the party, she was a stranger who gave me the sense we’d been in the same room before. She caught me staring, pointed at the sky, and waved at me, as if to say, I saw it too. I waved back—a tiny little shake of my hand—pleased to have shared the moment with somebody.

When I turned around, Jes Winsome had draped her long arm over Tyler’s shoulder, and they whispered urgently to each other. He shifted slightly under her weight, not uncomfortably, and my stomach fell.

“You’re the summer girl?” Jes asked once we made eye contact, her voice a razor’s edge, a violent dog whistle, signaling ownership. Her fingers rested on the lapel of Tyler’s tuxedo, the skin dyed dark blue up to her knuckles, matching the color of the fabric. Whether it was ink or a tattoo, I couldn’t tell. I suspected that was the point. Tiny charms glittered from within the long ropes of her hair, and gold sparked from the bottom of her mouth. Kohl rimmed her eyes, inky pools of ash and hazel, and she drank me in.

This woman scared the living shit out of me.

“I suppose,” I said quietly, automatically submissive, as she intended. When she narrowed her eyes, bored with my two-word reply, I opened my mouth but—as in my dream about the fire—nothing came out. Ketamine, I realized, feeling my heart drift through the aquarium of my body. Uh-oh.

“This one doesn’t even speak,” she said, rolling her eyes.

I’m too high.

Tyler gave me an odd look. “Are you okay?” he asked.