I slouch in my chair. The bass line rumbles through my chest like an extra heartbeat, and I dig my fingers into my knees, reminding myself that I’m here and Gray’s right over there and it’s all okay. Someone comes to the table, and I shove some coupons and a glow stick at them, grateful for the distraction.

I spot my sister weaving through the crowd again. She looks over and gives me a little wave, and I know, I know whatever is coming next, I’m not going to like it. And shit, there she goes, right up to that girl in the feather dress, handing her the balloon and some coupons and leaning toward her ear.

Peacock girl—Peak, I decide, is the name I would have settled on if I’d thought of it when she first walked by—laughs and my heart twists. Peak and Gray talk for a bit, a few pointed looks cast in my direction. I slink lower in my seat, fiddling with a glow stick. I don’t realize Gray’s come back until she kicks my chair.

“Hey,” she says, dropping into the seat beside me.

“What was that about?” I shout over the din of the music.

“I told her I was your sister.”

“What?”

“I told her I was your sister,” she shouts even louder.

“No, I heard you. I meant why.”

“So she didn’t think I was your date.”

I tilt my head, glaring at her and swallowing hard. “What did you do?”

“Look.” She points toward the middle of the dance floor. I can’t see Peak anymore, but I see the yellow balloon bobbing along over the crowd like a latex buoy on an ocean of sweaty teens. “I just gave her the balloon so she’d be easier to spot. I thought it would make you feel better if she couldn’t sneak up on you.”

My anxiety kicks back up a few notches as Peak gets closer to the exit. “She’s leaving, Gray.” I shouldn’t feel so disappointed, but I do.

dosomethingdosomethingdosomethingdosomething

Gray cranes her neck, leaning over the table to see better. “I don’t think she is.”

The balloon disappears, and now I’m standing up and leaning too. I watch Peak take a Sharpie from the bouncer and scribble something on it, and then she looks over at me and smiles.

I turn toward my sister, my eyes going wide. “What else did you say to her? Jesus, Gray, what did you do?”

“Okay, okay, I may have also mentioned that you could probably use a little encouragement.” She scrunches up her shoulders. “Sorry?”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

“Are you, though? Look.”

I follow her gaze to where Peak stands. Over her head bobs the bright yellow balloon again . . . only now there’s a crudely drawn bat in the center of it.

“What the hell is she doing?”