We pulled into a house where a bunch of cars were already parked, and kids packed the grounds, drinking and smoking, while a small bonfire crackled with welcoming warmth. “Let’s go, ladies,” Connor said, climbing out and opening the door. We headed in, and I stuck tight with Freda. I’d told my mom I was studying at Bonnie’s tonight, and she never bothered to check up. The past week had been better than the entire year. My new friends had no qualms about breaking rules and searching out fun. For the first time in ages, my insides felt lighter, but that good feeling was still mixed with a shred of worry I couldn’t seem to shake. This wasn’t my normal life. I was a rule follower and felt as if for the last few years I’d lived in a fake, shallow tunnel, just existing. I didn’t seem to fit—with either the popular crowd or the athletes or the nerds. With Freda, David, and Connor, I finally felt heard. They listened to my opinions, and we had endless discussions about life and embraced the hard stuff rather than pretending it didn’t exist. And even though Mom had said no to my summer proposal, I wasn’t done. I’d just decided to back off and go ahead with my own plans. After all, I already had money stashed away in cash and didn’t need to get into my savings account. I even had a credit card in my own name, for emergencies. There were options, but I was still hopeful I could convince Mom to let me go without a war.

We went inside and popped open some beers, and Freda introduced me around. Most of the kids were from the public school and seemed cool. I drank the beer and hung back for a while, taking in the groups and who was hooking up with whom. There were a few hot guys, but I kept glancing over at David, keeping him in my peripheral vision. He didn’t move around a lot or look interested in any specific girls. I liked the quiet calm settling around him, as he hooked his ankle over his knee, sprawled back on the couch while he talked to some guy friends. His hair fell messily over his brows. I had the weirdest urge to brush it back.

Keeping my eyes on the time, I let Freda know I needed a ride back to my car by ten or my mom might start texting. She usually didn’t bother me unless it got too late—then I’d suddenly get a bunch of calls or a stream of texts like she’d gone into a panic. It was better to be one step ahead of her.