Will and Trip kept playing, showing off for the girls who were watching. Some kids from New Jersey arrived with more beer. The music got louder. The kids who’d gone to Philly for coke finally got there, looking wired, and set up shop in the upstairs bathroom. Word went around that you could get two lines for five dollars. Will slipped upstairs and did a quick line—just one, never more—to keep himself sharp.

On his way back down, he could hear Kanye’s Graduation album blasting as all the seniors cheered, feeling like the music was made just for them. Kids were dancing now, stealing glances at their reflections in the sliding glass doors. And yes barely passed, any and every class, they chanted, laughing. Will looked around for Maddie, but she must have been outside. A girl he recognized from school started pulling on his hand, leading him toward the group of dancing kids. He followed her and she smiled at him and then began to dance, her body rolling with the music. Will automatically put his hands on her waist, but he was relieved when the beat picked up and she turned to bounce between him and some of her friends. He wasn’t quite drunk enough not to feel self-conscious. Welcome to the good life, the kids sang along, and Will slipped away, feeling good, feeling like he wanted another drink.

He pushed past the crowd, which had somehow doubled over the past hours, and grabbed a Solo cup and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s from the kitchen. Through the window, he spotted Hunter on the deck and went out to join him. Hunter lit a cigarette and handed one to Will, who knew there was no more telling himself that he was going home early. There was nowhere else he wanted to be right now. He’d worked so hard all year, loading up on APs and making National Honor Society and captain of the track team, while pulling fifteen hours a week at his family’s farm. He’d even volunteered as an umpire for Little League. He had everything under control. This was clearly going to be the party of the year. He didn’t want to miss it.

Will stood on the deck smoking with Hunter as the sun slipped behind the hills and the river at the edge of the lawn turned a deep, glassy blue. A few kids plugged in the contractor’s floodlights and went into the woods to look for kindling for the firepit. From the house they heard the synthetic throb of a Katy Perry anthem as the shadows of the dancing kids flickered across the deck. The girls were rolling hard now, wrapping their arms around anyone and everyone, shouting to them that they loved them.