“Please, Remy? For my birthday?” She turned to face me.

“It’s just going to be a bunch of drunk idiots hanging out. I’d rather stay in tonight, count down to midnight like we did for mine,” I told her. It’d been the best birthday I had in years, maybe ever. “Or we could just watch both volumes of Kill Bill again and eat cake.”

“Tempting,” Elise said with a smile. “But no, come on. It’ll be fun. It’s an anti-prom party.”

“The one Summer’s throwing?” I asked. Summer Stevens was well known for her benevolent popularity and aggressive tennis serve, and for throwing the best parties. She’d gotten into Cornell early and was cruising through the rest of her senior year.

“Yeah, and everyone’s going to be there.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Everyone?” I just wanted her to admit that she liked Christian. For her to tell me things like I always did with her.

“Everyone,” she confirmed.

“Like who?”

“Well, like I said, Julie and Madi. Jae too.”

“Who else?” I asked, growing suspicious. “Christian?” She almost never brought him up, or even interacted with him directly, but after the Thanksgiving fundraiser I’d sometimes catch her staring at him with this look of curiosity. Of interest.

“What? No, Mr. Student Council President? He’ll definitely be at prom,” she said, her words measured yet casual, like she wanted to sound nonchalant. But she was right. Of course he’d be at the dance.

“Okay, we can go,” I said reluctantly.

“We won’t stay long, maybe an hour tops. Promise.”

• • •

I’d ordered Elise’s birthday present months ago, a vintage cigarette case like the ones in old movies, with an inscription mirroring the one on my lighter: Remy x Elise. It’d been hard not to give it to her as soon as it arrived. I put it in my bag, nestled in a box with pale pink tissue paper. In my mind, we’d go to the party, Elise would get bored after an hour, and then we’d leave with plenty of time until midnight.

I was only half-right.

Elise did get bored after an hour, but she didn’t want to leave. The kitchen ran out of drinks almost immediately, so the five of us were hanging out on Summer’s deck sipping sugary mixer. Elise lit two cigarettes and passed one to me.

“I’d do everything so differently,” she said, nodding toward the house, the party. “This is just sad.”

“So do it,” Julie said, like issuing a challenge.

Elise’s smile grew. “Okay.” She began to outline plans with more and more excitement. They’d use the football field. Julie’s sister had a stereo and mixing equipment. And then it was just a matter of doing a little shopping and getting the word out.

I pulled her aside before we all left. “It’s ten,” I said, trying not to whine.

“Oh. I hadn’t noticed.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “But let’s just go.”

“What? No, we have a anti-anti-prom party to throw,” she said, laughing lightly.