Someone’s music was playing on the TV screen when we went inside. It was a Halsey song, so I knew I’d like at least one of these random people. I was relaxing a little now, since the party wasn’t out of hand. Austin had been right about the party—so far, anyway. Everything was more low-key since it was a Sunday night. There were only about ten people there, and everyone seemed to be older than high school, thank God. And there was no sign of Sarina or any of her other friends, and as far as I knew, she was Austin’s only recent high school hookup. He said she lied about her age. I didn’t know if that was true or not. No sign of Austin, which meant he was either outside smoking or in some room with a girl. As long as it wasn’t my old room and the girl was of age, I didn’t care.

Five or six people were dotted around the living room. The rest were in the kitchen, crowding the booze counter. There wasn’t much to speak of: a bottle of vodka, a much bigger bottle of whiskey, and tons of beer. We stayed in the kitchen, moving around a guy and a girl who seemed to be mid-argument, and passing a man wearing a gray beanie. I couldn’t see his hair, but I suspected he was a soldier, based on his build. My brother always seemed to gravitate toward people in service, even when we were in high school.

Austin and I made a pact from a young age that neither of us would ever even consider enlisting, but he still had a natural draw to Army life. Whether it was out of habit or comfort—the pull of the familiar and all that—I didn’t know. His curiosity scared me sometimes.

Kael stood near me by the kitchen sink, not touching or speaking, but close enough that I could smell the cologne on his shirt. The smell was sweet, and it made me wonder if he had other plans tonight. I grabbed a plastic cup from the stack and poured in a little bit of vodka and a lot of cranberry juice.

“Want one?” I asked Kael.

He shook his head no. He seemed tense. Whether he was more tense than usual, I couldn’t say. He looked at me as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t. His eyes leveled on the cup in my hand.

“I’m only having one since I’m driving,” I explained, slightly defensive. Guilt didn’t really feel appropriate, since I could crash upstairs in my old bed if I needed to. I still hadn’t seen my brother, and we had been there for at least twenty minutes.

“I don’t drink much.” I didn’t need to explain myself further, but did anyway.