“Yes, absolutely,” Kaylee said right away. “He’s a complete lunatic about leaving for college. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m totally excited to be going too…but it’s all he ever talks about anymore. I think it’s making my mother depressed.”

“Huh, never would I have ever thought your mom and I would have something in common.”

“Oh come on, she has always loved you. It’s just that now she probably has a mental image of you getting it on with her one and only golden child under her very own roof.”

“Kaylee!” Clare gently hip checked her. “That’s not funny.”

“But it is true.” She held up her pointer finger for emphasis.

Inside the Robertses’ house, they squeezed through the growing swell of people to the dining room, where Ryan Edwards manned a makeshift bar. Half-empty liquor bottles, juice cartons, and cut-up oranges and limes littered and spilled all over the shiny surface of the mahogany dining table. A sticky-looking wet dish cloth sat piled with a wad of used paper towels off to the side in an obviously failed attempt to keep this disastrous bar in check.

“Heyyyy!” Ryan called out in a slurry welcome and waved them closer. “Back for some more of my magic juice.” Ryan raised his eyebrows and leered at Kaylee suggestively, letting her clearly know that he’d be up for abandoning his drinks post if she wanted to slip away into one of the nearby bedrooms.

“Keep it professional, Edwards,” she told him. “We’re just here for the drinks. Clare here is as dry as a bone.”

Ryan clutched his heart. Whether it was because Kaylee wasn’t taking the bait or because Clare was stone cold sober was hard to tell. Ryan pulled a fresh Solo cup off the stack next to him, spooned ice straight from the plastic bag in the cooler beneath the table, and then ladled several servings of red booze from the swimming pool–sized punch bowl into the cup. Once he added a slice of orange and a wedge of lime, he started to hand the cup to Clare before changing his mind.

“Wait,” he explained and placed the cup back in front of him. “Since you’re late and thusly behind…” Clare watched as he grabbed the vodka bottle to his left and added an additional hearty dose to her cup. “There you go.” He slid the almost-overflowing cup toward her. “That should get you right up to speed.”

Clare dipped her finger into the cup and attempted to stir some of the vodka floating on the top into the rest of the drink. She dipped her head to the cup and sipped the too-full drink away from the edge. “Agh.” She made a face and then smiled at Ryan. “I guess that’ll catch me up or kill me,” she said, now at least able to pick the cup up.