I pick up the box, straining as I head for the door. “Yeah,” I tell him. “I’m still excited for prom.”

TWENTY-SIX

THE PARTY IS already in full swing by the time I get there. The house is alive, vibrating with noise and energy, and it looks like everyone is here—all of the senior class and most of the juniors. The Olivers have the kind of house that’s full of negative space—rooms that cost a fortune to decorate but no one ever actually uses. The staircase to the second floor wraps up from the foyer like a showpiece, the kind of stairs you’d expect a line of chorus girls to dance down in an old vaudeville show. Right now, it’s crammed full of people.

There’s a big poster board taped to the back wall with THE LAST SUPPER written across it in red paint. This is risky, because the paint doesn’t seem totally dry, and every piece of furniture in this house probably costs more than a car. At the bottom of the poster in Sharpie, someone else has scrawled WHAT’S SUP? And another person: EAT MY DICK!

Below that is a folding table piled with food—trays of cookies and breads Danielle made, plus some suspicious-looking brownies she clearly didn’t. There are electric tea candles everywhere, casting the party in a soft glow.

I carry the box of alcohol into the kitchen, my arms straining, trying to edge my way past groups of people who don’t seem to see me or care to get out of the way. I scan the room and see Hannah dancing with a group of girls from her field hockey team. Before I can try to make my way over to them, Chase comes up to me, nodding his head toward the cardboard box full of bottles.

“Collins!” he says. “What did you bring me?”

I tilt the box toward him and he grins, pulling out a bottle of tequila.

“Looks like we didn’t really need this,” I say, motioning to all the people around us who are clearly already wasted.

“Dude, no, you’re a god.” He twists the bottle open and takes a swig, wiping his mouth with his hand.

“You’re just drinking it straight?” I ask, wrinkling my nose in distaste.

“Believe me, I need this right now.” He takes another quick swig and holds the bottle out to me. I set down the box.

“No thanks.” I don’t want my head to be too clouded, especially by something like tequila, which Ava has always said “makes her clothes fall off.” “Hey, have you seen Andrew?”

Chase nods behind him. “He’s with the lady of the house.”