Pat held her hand tightly, leading her through the crowd of couples toward the keg, where he poured two cups full.

Taking hers, she let him lead her down to a quiet spot just beyond the perimeter of cars. There, he spread his letterman’s jacket down on the ground and motioned for her to sit down.

“I couldn’t believe it when I first saw you,” Pat said, sitting close to her, sipping his beer. “You’re the prettiest girl ever to live in this town. All the guys want you.”

“But you got me,” she said, smiling at him. It felt as if she were falling into his dark eyes.

He took a big drink of his beer, practically finishing it, then he set it down and kissed her.

Other guys had kissed her before; mostly they were fumbling, nervous attempts made during a slow dance. This was different. Pat’s mouth was like magic. She sighed happily, whispering his name. When he drew back, he was staring at her with pure, sunshiny love in his eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me, too.”

He finished off his beer and got up. “I need more brew.”

They were in line at the keg when he frowned at her. “Hey, you aren’t drinking. I thought you were cool with partying.”

“I am.” She smiled nervously. She’d never really drank before, but he wouldn’t like her if she acted like a nerd, and she was desperate for him to want her. “Bottoms up,” she said, tilting the plastic tumbler to her lips and drinking the whole amount without stopping. When she finished, she couldn’t help burping and giggling.

“Far out,” he said, nodding, pouring two more beers.

The second one wasn’t so bad, and by the third beer Tully had completely lost her sense of taste. When Pat brought out a bottle of Annie Green Springs wine, she guzzled some of that, too. For almost an hour, they sat on his jacket, tucked close together, drinking and talking. She didn’t know any of the people he talked about, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was the way he looked at her, the way he held her hand.

“Come on,” he whispered, “let’s dance.”

She felt woozy when she stood up. Her balance was off and she kept stumbling during their dance. Finally, she fell down altogether. Pat laughed, took her hand to pull her up, and led her to a dark, romantic spot in the trees. Giggling, she hobbled awkwardly behind him, gasping when he took her in his arms and kissed her.

It felt so good; made her blood feel tingly and hot. She pressed up against him like a cat, loving the way he was making her feel. Any minute he was going to draw back and look down at her and say, I love you, just like Ryan O’Neal in Love Story.

Maybe Tully would even call him preppie when she said it back to him. Their song would be “Stairway to Heaven.” They’d tell people they met while—