Behind her, someone placed their hands at Clare’s waist, their body rocking and matching the rhythm and sway of her own. Someone dancing next to her—was it Denise?—handed her the remains of a small joint. She pinched the hot pill between the nails of her thumb and index finger, placed it to her lips, and inhaled as the paper and pot burned the tips of her fingers. She handed it back. Alive, free, feeling the pulse of this very moment, Clare tilted her head back against the person’s shoulder and let go as the music moved through her. With her arms crossed over her head, she smiled with an intoxicated sensuality, an acute sense of collective freedom that she couldn’t ever recall experiencing before, made doubly poignant by the realization that nearly every other person here felt the same. They were done. The daily obligation of school, attendance, attention, assignments, homework—it was all over. They were adults now, and their lives were finally their own. If she wanted, Clare could go anywhere, do anything, experience it all. The world was literally hers to do with as she wished. She had never even considered, until this very moment, that she was completely and totally obligation free. Yes, she was expected to turn up Monday morning to her little desk at Carter’s Moving and Storage—but what if she didn’t? What would it matter—really?

Clare’s every cell released in a collective sigh of relief. She was not only a little drunk, she realized, she was flying. The song ended and shifted into the next high-energy beat right as Kaylee returned with their refreshed and filled plastic cups. She handed Clare her drink and made a disgusted face at the person grinding on Clare from behind. With a flick of her hand, she shooed away whatever hanger-on Clare had been dancing with. When the guy ignored Kaylee and instead slipped his hand around Clare’s stomach, she turned around and faced what turned out to be a baby blonde sophomore. Clare placed her palm on one of his smooth cheeks.

“Time to go, now,” she said in his ear before turning back to Kaylee. Both girls toasted, took huge gulps from their cups, and again found the bump and sway of the beat in the collective mob of bodies filling the lawn.

Clare couldn’t even taste the alcohol in her drink, but by the time she noticed her cup was again empty, it was difficult for her to focus her eyes. She had been dancing so long a sheen of sweat had formed between her skin and clothes.

Kaylee took her cup again. “Gonna get some,” she slurred into Clare’s ear.