I turn at the sound of my name. Erin is handing me a cup of hot chocolate, which is just what I need, but it’s Erin, so I’m pretty sure it’s spiked.

“Try it,” she says, grinning mischievously.

The smell of peppermint hits me before I even have the cup halfway to my face.

“Schnapps,” she says. “Taste it!”

“How strong is it?” I ask. I’m nervous about drinking it — both for fear of getting busted in public and for fear of my parents finding out — but I’m freezing and this smells really good.

She rolls her eyes at me. “Oh my god, it’s not, don’t worry.”

So I take a sip. It burns a little more than I anticipated, but the warming aspects more than make up for it. “It’s yummy,” I tell her.

Hunter peers over to see what I’ve got. “Is that from Erin?” he says. “What is it, Everclear?”

I laugh. Erin’s reputation as a partier is hard-earned.

He leans closer. “Okay, don’t get mad, but I had an idea. What if you told your parents you were sleeping over at a friend’s house?” He raises his eyebrows hopefully.

I bristle at the way his focus on this is so singular, at the way he just won’t quit. “You want me to lie to my parents?” I snap. As if I haven’t lied several times lately with incredible ease and grace. Somehow the truth of that just makes me angrier, even though it’s not his fault. I think about how sad they must be right now, and I realize I probably should have told Hunter what’s happened with Jonah. He might be more understanding. But I didn’t want to talk to him about Jonah, and I still don’t. And even though that’s on me, I take it out on him. “Isn’t it enough that I’m going to the dance?”

He looks like he’s been slapped. “What,” he says, “like it’s some kind of favor that my own girlfriend goes to the Homecoming dance with me? Our senior year?”

“I have a lot going on, Hunter,” I say, my heart starting to beat harder. Something wants out of me, but whether it’s rage or tears, I can’t tell.

“Like what?” His challenging tone puts me off from even considering sharing anything with him.

“Forget it.” I look away and sip the cocoa.

“No, I won’t forget it.” I’ve pushed him over a line, and he’s pissed. “You know, we’re all stressed, Zoe. We’re all worried about getting into college and trying to get through senior year.”

I bite my tongue to keep from saying terrible things out loud. Oh, poor baby. It must be hard to be the perfect athlete with the perfect family who gets to go to whatever college he wants.