“So he went to boarding school? Do you know which one? Exeter? St. Paul’s?”

I shake my head. “Sorry, I honestly don’t know.”

She nods, lost in thought again. I look at the wristband fastened where my watch usually is, and then glance at the doorway where people are still petitioning to get on. This is so weird.

I was never popular in high school, or middle school, for that matter. I had some friends for sure, people I cared about and spent time with. Someone to talk to during class or sit with at lunch and hang out with a couple times a month. I think I was liked well enough. But I was no homecoming queen. I didn’t play the cool sports or go to the cool parties. My friends and I had movie nights and got pizza in town like once a month or so; we didn’t sneak out or throw parties in our basements or caravan to music festivals or crash parties at nearby colleges.

Honestly, I was fine with that. I liked that my friends were nice people, and while it might have been fun to do some of the things the cool kids did, I didn’t ever feel the desire to be “cool.” I knew it was totally arbitrary, why some people were considered popular and others not. It was bullshit.

But there was a tiny part of me tonight that felt a thrill when I got to walk past crowds wanting to get into the house and on the bus—wanting to go where I was going. Part of me felt proud when Colleen thanked me for helping her get here too.

I hated that I liked it.

“Sara, you want to help with this?” I look up to see Real Life Percy Weasley—Connor—holding out a bottle of champagne. Excitement surges through me.

“Yes! I’ve always wanted to do that!”

He hands me the bottle. “Okay, you take the little cage thing off, yeah like that, and then twist the cork and pull it out—but don’t aim it at anyone.”

I begin to twist the cork and it shoots off just as the bus jolts forward. I squeal as champagne spews into the party bus full of party people, who laugh and smile at me. So many people are looking at me, and they are not staring, not wondering why this girl is talking so much in class or bossing around the group project. They are looking at me like I am pretty, like I am fun.

I take a sip of the champagne right out of the bottle. It tastes great, like Christmas dinner and New Year’s Eve and weddings. Not sour and bitter like the other alcohol I’ve tried.