“Right here—in the house.” Hansen emptied the glass. “Luke and I hadn’t been in contact. High school was long out of my consciousness. They were stupid kids. Stupid rich kids, and the thought that I’d found them cool was laughable. I was an East Coast nerd scared witless about making yet another lifestyle switch, thrown into a whole new world. Tanned bodies, loud smiles, social castes . . . it was a sudden overdose of California. Luke and I had World History together. He was flunking—he was this big blond lunk who could barely read or spell. I felt sorry for him so I helped him—gave him free tutoring. He was dull, but not a bad kid. Built like a fridge, but he never went out for sports because he preferred drinking and smoking dope. That was the essence of the Kingers. They made a big point of not engaging in anything but partying and at that specific time in my life that kind of abandon seemed attractive. So when Luke invited me to join the group, I jumped at it. It was somewhere to belong. I had nothing else.”

“Were you welcomed by the others?”

“Not with open arms, but they weren’t bad,” said Hansen. “Tested me out. I had to prove myself by drinking them under the table. That I could do, but I never really felt comfortable with them and maybe they sensed it because, toward the end, they got . . . distant. Also, there was the economic thing. They’d figured I was rich—there’d been a rumor circulating that Father owned an oil company. When I told them the truth, they were clearly disappointed.”

Hansen passed the tumbler from hand to hand, stared at his knees. “Listen to me, going on about myself.” He took a deep breath. “That’s the sum total: I hung out with them for the second half of my junior year and a bit into my senior year, then it tapered off. When I got into Columbia, that put them off. They were all planning to live off their parents’ money in L.A. and keep partying.”

Milo said, “So you were home on break and Luke Chapman just dropped in.”

“Yes, it was out of the blue,” said Hansen. “I was spending my time holed up in my room drawing. Luke showed up unannounced, and Mother let him in.”

Hansen hefted the empty tumbler.

“What did he want?” said Milo.

Hansen stared at him.

“What was the topic, Nicholas?”