You are crazy, girl, Fiona wrote.
Em’s phone was blowing up before she even got to Noah’s house. Noah Handran’s annual shindig marked the start of the spring sports season—the lacrosse team had their first game tomorrow afternoon. It happened every year, and everyone went. Gabby had made Em promise that she’d at least make an appearance tonight.
See you at the party, Ty had said earlier, at the movie theater. Em had a hunch she knew why she was getting all these texts.
Until a few hours ago, Em had still been going back and forth about showing up—if she had limited time left as Em Winters, did she want to spend some of it at a keg party?
And now, clearly, Ty had gotten there first. And everyone thought she was Em.
It was time for major damage control.
Sean Wagner was the first person she saw as she approached the front door. He was smoking a cigarette on the front stoop, his signature baseball cap worn backward. His eyes lit up when he saw her. There was a bottle of whiskey on the step next to him.
“Back for more, huh?” He curled her in for a one-armed hug and she ducked her head automatically to avoid the smell of smoke. “I thought this was going to be a tame night, but you never fail to surprise me, Winters. Although I gotta say, I preferred your clothes from before. Way sexier.”
Em looked down at her outfit—the same one she’d been wearing earlier—and wondered what the hell Ty had changed into. “Sorry to disappoint,” she said. But really, even Sean’s typical asshole comments, the way he scanned her body up and down (and the different ways in which she planned to subtly reject him . . .) they all felt sad in their familiarity. In their everyday-ness. This was just one more thing she would never experience again, one more thing to say good-bye to.
She leaned down and grabbed the whiskey, blindly hoping that alcohol might diffuse her rising panic. The glass felt slick against her lips, and the whiskey burned as it slid down her throat. She clamped her lips shut to keep from coughing.
“That was far from disappointing,” he said with a laugh. Then he stubbed out his cigarette and opened the door, ushering her inside and to the basement, where jam-band music came from the speakers and Ascensionites lounged and leaned on every available surface.
Em didn’t know what kind of welcome she’d expected, but this wasn’t it. As she stood at the bottom of the staircase, scanning the room for Gabby and the rest of her friends, she felt a million eyes on her, and not in a good way. The room seemed to tilt ever so slightly to the left, and she shook her head to clear it. The drink must have gone straight to her head.
There were some snickers coming from the makeshift “bar”—a card table with bottles on it—and a weird wink from a senior named Jack who she’d spoken to maybe once in her life. She tried to keep a smile on her face, but her insides were rattling with discomfort, like there was nothing in her stomach but splinters of wood.
Someone passed her by and handed her a red cup sloshing with beer. She took a long sip. It was cold and harsh and flavorless. She shifted on her feet, dancing like she had to pee. Suddenly, her shirt was too revealing; her body was on display. Dizziness gripped her and the music danced curlicues behind her eyes. She realized with horror that she was swaying with the music now, that she was putting on a show.
Stop, she willed herself. Stop it.
“I thought you’d left,” Jenna said, coming up behind her and placing a hand on Em’s lower back. “You were so drunk! What’d you do, take a cold shower or something?”
Em offered a weak smile. Her searchlight finally found Gabby, in a gray silk romper and leggings, perched atop a bar stool in the corner near Noah’s pool table. They made eye contact and Gabby’s eyes widened. She hopped down from the stool and quickly came to Em’s side.
“A little much for a Wednesday night, don’t you think, Em?” Gabby whispered, pulling her out of the line of fire into a quiet alcove that held the house furnace and water heater. Jenna crowded in behind them, and suddenly Fiona was there too, wanting to be in on the action. This part of the basement was muggy. Em didn’t like it.
“I’m fine,” Em said, casting a look back over her shoulder. Couldn’t her friends tell who she was? Couldn’t they tell the difference?
The girls looked back and forth at each other knowingly.
“Don’t worry, Em,” Fiona said. “Everyone gets wasted sometimes. . . . ”
Jenna giggled. “Maybe not that wasted. By the time we got here, you were pole-dancing half-naked around the basketball hoop in Noah’s driveway.”
“You acted like you barely knew us,” Gabby said, unamused.
“No, guys, really,” Em said. “I just got here. It must have been someone who . . . ”