Me: What are you up to?

How stupid was I? Was I trying to screw myself over tonight? In the wait for a response, I drank the other half of the punch, wincing at the sharp and pungent burn. If someone had dumped rubbing alcohol into the garbage can serving as a punch bowl, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

My phone buzzed, vibrating my cup. Her name flashed up on the screen, quelling some of the thoughts racing through my brain like a kick return.

Bay: I’m about to leave the board and go into the studio. What’s up with you?

Me: Are you coming home straight after you’re finished?

Or would one of the guys, blown away by her talent, try to get in a bit more than musical mentorship during their last night in town?

Bay: Where else would I go? Are you home?

Someone ran past with a water gun, spraying it as they rushed out the back door into the yard. I scrubbed my hand down over my face.

Me: No, I’m out. Wanted to make sure you got home safe.

Bay: The worry is cute. You can come pick me up, if you’re still worried.

I stared at the cup in my hand. Fuck. Regret cratered even harder in my chest.

Me: I can’t. I already had a beer.

Or five.

Bay: No problem. Tell Knox I said hi.

Bile that had nothing to do with the battery acid I’d just chugged came racing for my throat.

Me: I will. Have a good night and be safe.

Bay: You too. See you tomorrow.

I leaned against the window facing my back yard and squeezed my eyes shut, banging my phone against my forehead. What an idiot. If I hadn’t gone along with this, I’d be in my car in a few hours on the way to pick up Bay.

Someone cranked the music, and girls were sitting on guys’ shoulders, although there was no pool in sight, to do their beer-induced singalong wobbling in the air. At least there wasn’t any shit to break at my place. Nothing that wasn’t already broken or easily replaceable. How did people like Knox or Bennet let people into their houses? All my stuff sucked. Like hell would I let anyone near things I cared about.

My bedroom door was locked. No one was getting in there.

Fear crept up my spine, slow and low at first. People swamped my place, in every chair, couch, counter, everywhere. What happened when Bay got home?

Knox rammed into my back, draping his arm over my shoulder. “I need a favor.”

“You’re not using my room.”

His cold beer can pressed against my neck. “I told Rebecca I didn’t believe her bra matched her panties and she wants to show me.” He shook my shoulders, rocking my head back.

“You’re not having sex in my bed.”

“The floor?” He cocked his head in negotiation.

“Take her to your car.”

“People are still showing up, and if we try anywhere else, someone might see. Please, man.” He pressed his palms together. “How many times have I bailed you out? It’s one of my last chances before graduation. You know I’ve had a thing for her since freshman year.”