“I’m going to grab us drinks,” Cindy shouts in my ear, and then mimes drinking just in case I missed it. “So we blend in,” she mouths.

I give her a thumbs-up and move to a side wall as she dances over to the pine straw–topped pseudo tiki hut in the opposite corner. There’s a paper tree with brown coconut balloons next to my head and I swat one absently. I wonder whether Jay would have approved of this party. Somehow, I think it would have fallen short of his standards. It seems like a recycled version of the one everyone thought was so amazing last semester, like without Jay no one has any original ideas anymore. In the slashes of strobe lights, I see girls with their mouths open, singing to a song so loud I can’t make out what it is. Long fingers hold Solo cups, people sway and bounce and stumble to the music. A girl slips, but her friends grab her before she falls. The guys prowl the sides of the room marking the most vulnerable.

It’s strange, being this close to them, like sneaking into the zoo after hours and scouting the edges of the lions’ den. My eyes find Michael. He’s clutching a handle of rum and surrounded by four guys wearing frilly pirate shirts. Michael hooks his arm around the back of one of the guy’s necks and draws him in close.

“Hey,” Cindy yells, beside me again. “I couldn’t find you for a second. The bartender wanted to see my ID. Can you believe it—even with the wristband!”

“What did you do?”

“I showed him. His eyes got all big, but I think he decided it must just be a good fake.” She sways to the music. “All right, so what now?”

“What’s in this?” I suck in my teeth. The drink is cloyingly sweet.

“He called it hunch punch, so who knows? Probably a little of everything.”

Great, I think, examining the contents of the plastic cup. I debate how much I can splash on the floor without anyone noticing.

“Thanks for letting me come,” Cindy shouts.

“Sure,” I yell back.

“No, really.” She puts her hand on my arm. It’s sticky, and I wonder if she’s already spilled her drink or if she’s playing the same game as me. “I needed this. With work and Teddy—” She sighs. “I feel like I haven’t had fun in ages.”

That’s the second time she’s mentioned problems with Teddy, which means she wants me to ask, but I know better.

“Well, we’re having fun now,” I say. “Cheers.” We clink plastic cups.

It must look like we’re having a great time, because a guy suddenly slides up on the other side of Cindy.

“Hey,” he yells over the music.

“Aloha,” she says with a big smile. She gives me a wink.

“You having fun?”