“Well, at least you got your cat,” I said, finally struggling to get up.

“About that . . .” she said, not quite meeting my eye. “It’s not exactly my cat.”

“What?!”

“So I saw her, in the garden, from the window,” she said, and pointed at one of the windows of Oliver’s house. “I thought she was lost. I came down to get her and she skittered under the bush.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, but she continued anyway.

“I was afraid she’d be out here alone all night and scared. She looked so tiny.” The girl lifted the kitten’s paw and moved it so it looked like the kitten was waving at me.

“Don’t be cross, drunk girl,” the “kitten” said in a surprisingly gruff voice.

I sighed and dusted myself off a little. I was now bleeding and covered in soil that smelled a little like the neighbors might use manure as a fertilizer. I figured my chances of kissing her in this state were rapidly dwindling.

“Well, she has a collar, so at least we can get her home, I suppose.”

“Um . . . yeah. About that.”

“I’m really starting to not like when you say that.”

“So according to this collar, she lives . . . here.” The girl spread her hands, indicating the very property we were currently trespassing on, and she bit her lip, waiting for my reaction.

“So basically by coming in here we have broken into the neighbors’ garden and tried to steal their cat?”

“Yes.” She nodded in agreement. “Basically.”

I made her say goodbye to the kitten and she kissed her on top of her fluffy head. I couldn’t bring myself to the same level of affection, but I patted the kitten on the head, and we stood side by side, watching it scamper off into the dark.

“Sorry you got hurt,” she said, turning her body toward me, her face level with mine, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is.” She pushed a strand of hair back from my face. My breath caught.

“Yeah, I know.”

She looked at me, and the moment seemed to close in around us, dark and enveloping like a blanket.

Then a bright spotlight shone between us. Patio lights from the house. Instinctively I pulled the girl into the shadows as the owner of the house stepped out into his back garden.

“Who’s out there?” a sharp voice called out. “Marian, those bloody kids are at it again. Leave my fish alone.”

We stealthed our way around the side of the house, trying not to laugh too loud.

When we got back to the party, we lingered around the bottom of the staircase.