“Aww, you’re such a good maid of honor,” Dottie says, threading her arm through my free arm, so the three of us are linked. “Will you be my maid of honor one day, too?”

“Hey!” Keith grunts. “You said I was going to be your man of honor.”

“You are…” Dottie looks my way, winking discreetly. “You totally are.”

“I saw that, bitch,” Keith spits out, rolling his eyes.

The pitch of our synchronized laughter bounces against the brick walls of the buildings we’re walking between to get to Club Lux.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute…” Sondra says. “What did you write in the napkin?”

A smirk hitches my lips. “If you can find me, you can date me. Blowjobs guaranteed.”

Laughter erupts in waves between me and my friends as we approach the line to get into Club Lux where we’ll dance for the next three hours. Stopping only to order more drinks or pee. Then we’ll reemerge into Los Angeles’s nightlife to choose one of the countless places open at three in the morning to eat, then Uber back to my apartment in Port Blue—a night like many we’ve had before. Not the bachelorette party I imagined for Sondra Bose, daughter of Mr. Money Bags Bose, but it’s what she requested. Intimate, just the Fearless Four, and dancing… Check, check, and check.

“How the hell is he going to find you?” Sondra mutters through laughter.

“How many Winters do you know in Port Blue? If he’s interested, he’ll have to work at it.”

Maybe it’s because we’re quickly approaching three sheets to the wind, but Sondra’s evaluation of my current misanthropy is feeling pretty accurate. Although I don’t agree with her assessment that I need to “dust the cobwebs off my coochie and ride a dick,” I admit I could get back out there for a date or two.

But not now. These next three weeks belong to my friends. We’re sending our youngest off to get hitched to some guy we barely know—Sondra included—who she picked up at a club three months ago in Ridgehaven. The only substantial thing any of us have seen come out of Ridgehaven was a determined case of the herp our friend Vik got from a rando on a weekend party bender. So you can imagine our apprehension of letting our little Sondra legally bind herself to this guy forever. But she’s happy, so we’re happy for her. Plus, Preston adores her.

Three weeks, then I’ll consider lowering my firing squad on the male species. And if Hot Bartender Guy wants to work hard enough to find me? Well, maybe I’ll keep my promise and go on a date with him. Hell, if he finds me before Sondra’s wedding, maybe I’ll even ask him to be my plus-one. But I won’t hold my breath. Guys like Dylan are drowning in vaginas, so I certainly don’t expect him to put in enough work to Dick Tracy mine.

Absolutely zero male contact for the next three weeks.