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She roared with laughter. “What? Michael and I are in the next room. We had to crank up the television to drown you two out.”
Clint rubbed my back. “Should’ve
eaten something before those shots, gorgeous.”
I rolled my eyes. “And whose fault is that?”
I sighed as I gazed up at the house. Freshman and other college members of all sorts and ages and races hung off the porch. Poured from the front door. In and out. Like a constant rotating shuffle of craziness. Music blared onto the porch. Bodies swayed to the beat. Red cups were hanging in the air, connected to bodies with hazy, alcohol-dimmed eyes.
“I don’t know about this,” I murmured.
Allison slipped her arm around mine. “Oh, come on. It’s all part of the experience, remember? And if we hate it, we can always leave. That’s what you told me.”
I nodded slowly. “Just didn’t think I’d be the one to bail.”
Clint kissed my temple. “And I’ll be here with you the entire time. You’ll be fine. I promise.”
Michael stood in front of me. “Yeah. You’ve got us this time around.”
They were my best friends. Clint was my comfort. My soft place to fall. So why didn’t I feel reassured by their words?
Why wasn’t I reassured by his kiss?
I drew in a deep breath and tightened my grip on Allison’s arm. I looked over at her and she gave me that innocent smile I’d come to love over the years. We were complete opposites who just happened to fit each other perfectly. Two lost pre-teens navigating the sea of middle school while trying our hardest not to get picked on. Me, with my ratty clothes and mangled hair and angry eyes. Her, with her perfectly-matched outfits and straight hair and soft smile. Two girls who never had a chance of meeting one another outside in the real world.
Somehow sitting next to one another in homeroom back in sixth grade.
“I love you, Allison,” I said.
She giggled. “That’s the alcohol talking.”
“No, I mean it. You’re my bestest friend in the whole world. I love you.”
“Bestest? What kind of word is that?”
I grinned. “The only word that fits right now. That’s what kind of word it is.”
“No more alcohol for you.”
I laughed. “Maybe just one more drink. Or two.”
Michael took Allison’s other hand. “You guys ready to go in?”
Clint placed his hand on the small of my back. “Ready when you are.”
And I found myself bristling at his touch.
We all walked inside where the music was thumping so loudly I couldn't hear myself think. People rushed around. Couples were making out in corners with their clothes half off. There was a strobe light somewhere, making it harder to see. And as someone passed by me, they shoved a drink into my hand. Michael’s, too. Clint’s hand had one, and even Allison ended up with one before the darkened blur passed us by.
“No, thank you,” she said.
Allison set her drink on a table and abandoned it. I sniffed mine. There were hints of fruit punch and pineapple. A tantalizing combination. I sipped the drink as Allison snuggled tightly against me. It hit my tongue and my eyes widened. There was cinnamon in this, too. A heady combination that had me chugging the entire drink back.
“Okay, let’s slow down a bit,” Clint said.
He took the cup from me, but my lips followed it. I cast a glance up at him before Michael took Allison from my side. The two of them started dancing, with his hands sitting low on Allison’s hips. My eyebrows rose as a grin crossed my face. But then I felt someone’s hands on my shoulders.
“Wanna dance?”
