The two of them shifted and twisted, moved against each other without ever managing to lose contact. It was sweltering outside, the air refusing to calm and cool even when it was long past dark, but all Lulu could feel was the burn of desire in her belly, in her fingertips. It sparked her. It lit her up. Someone said something to Sloane about her ex, and Sloane said, “Yeah, she was . . .” and Lulu didn’t hear anything else for a whole minute.

She chatted Owen on Flash. Might have an adventure in mind for later, she said. That thing we talked about. A girl. I could send you pictures?

No fair, he replied. Stuck on the bus tonight. Can’t even really jerk off in peace. A picture of the cramp of a bunk, the bulge in his sweats. Lulu was dizzy, she was drunk, she couldn’t be expected to keep track of all the things in the world she wanted to touch and be touched by.

That’s going to be tough for you, then, she said. Unless you tell me not to.

Just keep me in the loop, he said.

It wasn’t even hard, Lulu kept thinking. It wasn’t hard at all, with a girl who wanted what you wanted. With a girl who wanted you.

The party got late, got loose. Lulu went inside to make herself a drink. She lingered in the kitchen.

Sloane followed her in.

“So hot out there,” she said. She lifted her hair from her neck and twisted it away from her face. A bead of sweat ran down the side of her neck, traced a lazy pattern across the sheen of her skin.

“I think the AC is on upstairs,” Lulu said. “If you want to, like, take a break.”

“I feel like I’ve mostly been talking to you anyway,” Sloane said. “I doubt anyone would miss us if we went missing.”

“No one’s home,” Lulu said. “We can—wherever.”

She doesn’t remember much of the next few minutes—what they talked about, or where they walked. Lulu doesn’t remember anything except the fever in her blood and how she knew, she knew that soon she would have Sloane’s hands on her to soothe it, to draw it out and set it down.

They found a bedroom. Lulu let Sloane kiss her for long, hot minutes before she explained about Owen, and pulled out her phone.

“We can do whatever we want,” Lulu said, even though that wasn’t the deal exactly. They hadn’t really made a deal. “He just wants to know what I get up to.”

“I don’t like the idea of sharing you,” Sloane said. Her hand was on Lulu’s hip, palm pressed against her belly, and it was hard to concentrate on anything that wasn’t that single, physical fact. “I’m sure he doesn’t either.”