Someone handed me a cup of red liquid then kept going. There was exactly zero chance I’d be drinking that for about a thousand reasons. I set it down behind one of Mrs. Tuck’s ornate decorative displays on a shelf where it would have the least chance of getting knocked over as the night wore on. I hoped.

Going in farther, I spotted Brody in the corner. He was in the middle of a handstand on a keg as another guy—Toby Killian?—poured beer from the nozzle into his mouth. Neat. At least he still had his shirt on, but the night was young.

A dozen other kids around my age, one way or the other, cheered him on.

I stood apart and watched them. Unnoticed. Until I heard a familiar voice above the din loudly say, “Holy shit! You came?”

I turned to see Mia standing by an entrance I knew led to the kitchen.

She wore a cropped red Christmas sweater with the words SLEIGHIN’ THESE HOS. In her hand was a red cup, her name (MIA’S CUP!) written in green puff paint on the side. Her expression was both wary and, if I wasn’t mistaken, almost pleased. But more wary.

“Yeah,” I shouted back while nodding.

She stepped closer and yelled back at me: “I didn’t think you were gonna.”

That makes two of us, I nearly said but refrained.

Someone bumped me from behind as they headed toward the kitchen, and I realized I was standing in the way. Mia saw the same thing. She grabbed me by the shoulder and hauled me into the adjacent mudroom and shut the door. It was cooler and quieter and I was grateful.

Mia leaned her back against the door and eyed me. I noticed her cup was now gone.

“You okay?” she asked. “You look kinda, I dunno. Freaked, maybe?”

For all her inherent narcissism, Mia could be unnervingly perceptive. A good many of our talks over the years had begun with her noticing something was bothering me before I said anything, sometimes before I noticed myself.

“Yeah.” I rubbed my forehead against the tension. “It’s just been a really . . . challenging Christmas,” I admitted, opting for understatement.

She bit her lower lip. “Is that cuz of me and Brody?”

“No, Mia. It has nothing to do with you and Brody.” But then I cocked my head to one side and decided, what the heck. I did have some questions on the matter. “Although, now that you bring it up, why didn’t you tell me about you guys?”

She shrugged and her sweater slipped off one shoulder. “I mean, what was I supposed to say? Me and Brody, we’re a thing now?”

I stared at her. “Yes. Yes, that is exactly what you should have said. Those very words would have worked.”