I can’t say I’m a big drinker. Actually, I can’t say I’ve been to a party that had alcohol before this summer. But I’m also aware that I’m at an event with a bunch of new college students, and it’s not like I’ve never seen a teen movie before. I know how this works—all of us stealing sips out of red Solo cups as we get lost in our youth as some poppy, feel-good music that’ll totally date us plays. I’m not gonna be the loser on our first date who ruins the mood by sitting in the corner fiddling his thumbs, and Drew’s probably hyperaware of our age gap now, so I need to make a statement, show him I’m mature and totally the type of guy who can fit in around his friends. “Sure.”

Drew goes to grab the drinks, and I sit down with the rest of the group. They sound like they’re fighting over some video game or something, so I just kind of sit around the edge and pretend I’m actually interested.

“You smoke, Noah?”

I look over at the guy next to me. He’s the only member of the group who isn’t white, so I’m tempted to scoot a little closer to him. I eye the bong in his lap, reminding myself that weed’s totally legal here, and it probably wouldn’t matter even if it wasn’t. I need to be cool Noah. Suave Noah. Second-date-material Noah.

“Uh, no, not really,” I say. Smooth. I consider taking a swing at it anyway. Maybe it’ll be one of those scenes where the nerdy kid goes, “Ah, what the hell!” then I take a long drag, and suddenly everyone’s cheering me on as I mattress surf right off the roof.

Drew plops down next to me and passes me a plastic cup. I have no idea what’s in it, but I sip it anyway, fighting past the terrible taste.

“Noah’s from Florida,” Drew says.

One of the nameless guys turns to me and says, “Shit, that’s, like, gun country isn’t it?”

“I’m from Miami,” I say. “I only know like three people who own a gun.”

One of the girls leans toward me, her face flushed like she’d been drinking a bit too long. “Wow, you must go to the beach like every day. I wish I could be that tan.”

I press my lips together because I honestly just don’t know how to respond.

Drew laughs, and I can’t tell if he thinks she’s funny or just acknowledges what a ridiculous thing that was to say, and I wonder if I should say something about how uncomfortable the whole thing is. Then he says, “So, bonfire?”

Freddie stretches and says, “Eh, might as well. Jeff, go get the matches.”