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She remembered it well.
She had to park down the road a ways, and they could hear the music from here. Some kids already had fires going in a couple of drums down on the beach. Smoke and charcoal wrapped around her and flavored the air.
Quinn reached over and turned off the ignition, then put the keys in her pocket. “I’m taking your keys.”
Becca snapped to. “What? Quinn—I never drink—”
“I don’t give a crap if you drink. I don’t want you bolting without consulting me.” She smiled and it looked a little vicious. “Now get your ass out of the car.”
When they started walking toward Drew’s house, Becca focused on the narrow strip of asphalt in front of her until it started to feel like a gangplank.
One wrong step and she’d fall.
What the hell am I doing here?
“You came.”
The voice spoke out of the shadows to her left. Becca jumped and swore and almost took her friend down.
Quinn grabbed her arm to steady her. “Damn it, Bex! God, I should have snuck you one of Mom’s valiums. It’s only New Kid.”
“Hunter,” he said, but his voice was amused. He was leaning against a late model Jeep Wrangler with the top off, partially cloaked by the shadow of a cherry tree. He’d worn cargo pants and a charcoal long-sleeved tee, and his thumbs were hooked in his pockets.
Casper’s head hung over his shoulder, his tongue hanging out.
Becca widened her eyes, delighted. “You brought your dog!”
Quinn was just as wide-eyed. “He ... brought his dog.”
He reached up and rubbed the dog’s ears. “I never really bring Casper anywhere. He gets out of the yard and finds me all the time. I’m always worried he’ll end up under some guy’s tires.” He grimaced. “It’s easier to let him hop in the car.”
This was awesome. The dog could be her bodyguard. She imagined Casper tearing into Drew the way he’d done to Tyler.
But then Hunter said, “He’ll just sleep in the back of the jeep.” As if on cue, the dog lay down and rested his head on the tailgate.
Damn it.
Hunter pushed off the car and stepped closer, and suddenly she remembered this wasn’t a chance meeting on the side of the road. “You didn’t want me to drive.”
She looked up at him, tightening her grip on the strap of her purse. He smelled good, like woods and fresh air and confidence. “Is that a problem?”
“I thought you might be planning to stand me up.” His eyes were bright, his voice gently chiding. He glanced at Quinn. “Make New Kid walk in alone.”
Quinn rolled her eyes. “She just wanted a getaway—” Becca elbowed her in the side. “Have you been waiting long?”
He shook his head. “Shall we?”
The music pouring from the house seemed to move the sidewalk, and the front door stood wide open. It wasn’t like those high school parties in the movies, where everyone was hot and well dressed and straight sober despite having a drink in hand. In front of Drew McKay’s house, three guys were sitting on the front step, smoking. A girl wearing a fleece tracksuit was already puking in the front shrubbery. The word Juicy was plastered across her ass, and most of the vomit ended up in her hair. She staggered like she might pass out.
One of the smokers jeered and flicked ash her way.
Becca hesitated on the front walk.
“Leave it,” hissed Quinn. “Come on.”
Maybe she had too much of her mother in her, but Becca couldn’t just blow right past that kind of train wreck.
“Hey. Are you okay?” she asked.
