“What’s your name?” Random Guy asks over the earsplitting music. He’s one of Luisa’s brother Erich’s friends, I think, visiting from Penn State. He’s cute—through beer goggles, at least.

I shake my head, pretend I can’t hear him. He wants to know my name as much as I want to know his. His real motive, from the way he keeps looking down at my boobs, is to get into my pants. I tilt back my head and take another swig of my beer, then lean over and kiss his ear and give him doe eyes, the universal party language for “Let’s get out of here.”

He obliges. He takes my hand, and we stumble through the sea of bodies in the kitchen, up the mansion’s sweeping staircase. For a second I forget where I am, but then I see a picture on the wall of Luisa and Kane in their junior prom best. Sure, she wants me here. Kane is so full of bullshit. The second she saw me, she walked in the other direction and hasn’t glanced at me since. Kane might have come over to say hi, if it weren’t for Luisa constantly corralling him. Javier and Nina didn’t show, so I’ve spent the night drinking, then playing Asshole with a bunch of Erich’s friends. After that, the night gets hazy.

As we stagger up the stairs, Random Guy’s behind me. I have a hard time believing he only has two hands, because he’s all over my front, like octopus tentacles. When we get to the landing, I remember which door used to be the guest bedroom and pull him in there. I laugh as I kiss him, and these are truly sloppy kisses, the way I thought kisses were before I knew better. But I don’t care. I don’t care that he tastes like cigarettes and his tongue is like a bulldozer trying to excavate my mouth. To show him I mean business, I pull his shirt out of his pants before he can even get the door closed.

His eyes widen. I don’t think he expected so much from the quiet high school senior.

But I’m probably not like any quiet high school senior he’s ever met.

When we come downstairs, the party is winding down. Luisa is sitting at the dining room table, glued to Kane’s side. His eyes rise to meet mine. He puts his beer down and starts to get up. I take Random Guy by the hand and lead him outside into the frigid night.

“It’s balls cold out here,” he mutters when I plop on the porch swing, sitting on my hands. I motion for him to sit next to me, tell him I’ll keep him warm, when he says, “I need another beer.”

Then he gets up and leaves me alone.