So by the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, I’d started self-medicating, taking sips from my mom’s Absolut supply. It worked fine—in fact, too fine. I’d liked how it numbed me so much that I started upping my dose.

And so I got in a little trouble. Okay, more than a little trouble, since it happened twice. The first time, Principal Williams said that because of all I’d endured, he’d let me slide. The second time, he said that because of all I’d endured, he’d let me slide, but there’d better not be a third time, or I’d be welcomed to Suspension City.

There hasn’t been a third time. Yet.

Until last year, I hadn’t so much as looked at a teacher the wrong way. I was the good girl: Student Council representative, Key Club president, girlfriend to the esteemed Declan Weeks. Now, I’m none of those things.

Not a single one.

Instead I’m a Cheez-It chomping, vodka-guzzling loner.

I think of when I was younger. I wanted a talent so bad it about killed me. Everyone had one, but me? Nothing. When I’d confessed this to Declan, he’d said my thing was being me, and being his. He’d told me that if I could juggle knives or sing beautifully or whatever, I wouldn’t be his Hailey. At the time, I’d melted.

Now, I’m no one.

I look over at Kane. If they took before and after pictures of us, mine would be a total one-eighty. His, mirror images. It’s so mystifying that I forget to upshift to third as we pull onto the main road.

“Whoa, babe,” Kane says, nearly putting his hand on mine as I struggle with the clutch. Then he thinks better of it and pulls away. He studies me. “If Williams sees you’re drunk—”

“I’m not!” I shout at him, then lean forward and breathe heavily in his face. “Happy?”

“Minty fresh. But, you know, vodka is odorless.”

“No, it’s not.”

We pull into the senior parking lot, where Luisa is waiting by my usual space. Before, she used to wait at the front of the bus line for me. Now, when Kane hops out of the car, she hooks an arm through his and starts to pull him toward the front of the school before I can gather my stuff out of the back seat.

It’s Kane who hangs back. He grins at me. “See you, Hail.”

Luisa looks back at the Jeep and seems surprised to see me there. “Hey, Hail.” Then she tilts Kane’s chin toward her, her eyes begging so he has no choice but to kiss her. He must’ve done something for her last night, judging from the way she can’t keep her hands off him. I don’t want to think of what.