Amelia’s head snapped upward. A tall, large girl loomed over her. Her hair was long, thick. There was a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose. She was fresh-faced, wearing hardly any makeup, a pair of glasses perched on her nose.

“Me too,” Amelia responded, glancing around. Where was Michael, anyway? He’d gone into the apartment to get beers a while ago. Hers was almost empty. She set it down on the ground.

“Go!” a male voice shouted to Amelia’s right and cheering ensued.

Oh, there was Michael. He and a couple of his friends were shotgunning beers. Amelia cringed as foamy beer shot into his mouth, concurrently spraying him in the face. She’d only done it once. It was like drowning in a sea of bitter foam.

Sighing, she slumped back on the bench.

The strange girl plunked down next to her so hard Amelia almost shot upward.

“They’re not even doing it right,” she muttered. “I could take all of ’em.”

Amelia laughed. When she’d told Becca she’d shotgunned a beer, she’d rolled her eyes. Told her that was stupid. Not that she was surprised. Amelia could never picture Becca cutting a slit into a can of beer, popping the top and shooting the liquid into her mouth, possibly getting it all over her face or hair. She was way too girlie for any of that.

But she could picture this girl doing it. Even though they’d just met, Amelia could tell she was completely opposite from Becca. And maybe that was why she instantly felt drawn to her.

“I’m Lauren, by the way.” She brought the silver can to her lips, took a long pull.

“Amelia,” she replied. “Who’d you come with?” She was curious. She’d never seen Lauren before.

“Craig.”

“Which one is he?” Amelia scanned the playground area, her gaze sweeping over the cluster of guys huddled together. The cheering had died down. Now there was only sparse laughter. Chatter. Michael wiped his face with the back of his hand.

“The guy who lost and is now puking in the bushes.” She shook her head.

Amelia bit her lip, trying to stifle a giggle, but when Lauren started laughing, she joined in.

“I’m here with Michael,” Amelia finally said when their laughter died down. She bobbed her head in his direction. “The guy who won.”

“Ah.” Lauren raised one appreciative eyebrow. “Is he your boyfriend?”

Amelia flushed. They hadn’t defined their relationship. Mostly because she had to sneak around to see him. If only her mom wasn’t so overprotective, then she could date like every other girl her age.

“Sort of. Is Craig yours?”

“God, no,” Lauren said.