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But what Evan doesn’t know is that the guest list is actually four times longer than the one we pitched.
“You look like you’re gonna barf and you haven’t even started drinking yet,” Ollie says to me.
I load a few more beers into the cooler on the deck. “I’m just worried something’s going to get broken.”
“It’ll be fine, Nat.” He fits the lid on the cooler and then squeezes my shoulders. “We’re finally gonna have a real party.”
“Just promise me this thing won’t go past two in the morning.”
“I promise we’ll wrap things up by dawn.”
“Ollie,” I say with a tone of warning.
He laughs and kisses my temple. “I know why you’re freaking out, Nat. You’re nervous about finally losing your V-card tonight. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you and Toby aren’t disturbed.”
Guilt stabs my insides like a period cramp.
“That’s not why I’m freaking out.”
The sound of a car engine growling up the driveway averts Ollie’s attention. He pulls me into a side hug.
“Sounds like our first guests have arrived,” he says. “I promise, this is gonna be fun.”
* * *
By the time the last car pulls onto the front lawn, I’m fully convinced that this party was a terrible idea.
I make my way through the crowd of people dancing and chatting on the deck, picking up any empty beer bottles and red plastic cups I come across. Music blares from Bluetooth speakers, so loud I can barely hear my own thoughts. I reach for my phone and discover it’s not in my back pocket. Three songs later, I still have no idea where I set it down.
“Shit,” I mutter. I see my friend, Hailey, dancing down on the dock and make my way over to her.
“Do you know what time it is?” I ask her.
She pulls her phone from her cleavage and taps on it. “Ten of midnight. Why?”
“I think the music’s too loud for this time of night. We have neighbors. I’m worried someone’s going to call the cops.”
“Whose phone is connected to the speakers?”
“Ollie’s I think.”
I head back toward the bonfire to where Ollie stands with a group of people.
“Ollie,” I yell over the pounding bass, waving my hand in the air. “Hey, Oliver!”
“Heeey!” He throws both his hands in the air. His dance partner, Logan, takes the opportunity to put his hands on Ollie’s hips and slide up behind him, getting intimately close. I’m almost embarrassed to watch as they rock their hips in perfect rhythm to the music. But I steel my nerves and grab my best friend’s hand anyway.
“We need to turn the music down,” I shout. He seems to sober up a little, but not enough to get him to stop dancing. “Someone’s going to call the cops.”
“Okay, mom,” he giggles. “I’ll let the DJ know.”
I roll my eyes. “Where’s your phone?”
“I don’t know. Logan, where’s my phone?”
“I think it’s on my dick,” Logan says.
They both start laughing.
