“WHAT?”
“I didn’t know! Really! This guy Amir was the hookup—he found me by my locker and said he heard I needed kegs and that he could take care of it, and I said, ‘Sweet,’ and that was it. But it turns out he was working with Carter!”
“Why are you surprised by this? We’ve seen Amir and Carter together multiple times in the past two weeks!”
“We have?”
“Yes!”
“That’s interesting.” Shana brushes a hand through her hair, what she always does when she’s nervous. “I guess whenever we see Carter, I’m too focused on getting you to a new location to actually notice who he’s with.”
The crowd flips out as Carter starts twerking. Good god.
“This is my guy!” football captain Chris Colasurdo shouts.
“This is bad,” Shana says. “And I apologize. I’m gonna have to murder Bodhi. I told him he was only allowed to be here if he made sure Carter was never in the same room as you.”
“How is that even remotely realistic? This house doesn’t have enough rooms.”
“I know! But we really needed the kegs. Want me to tell Carter to leave? I will. I’ll tell him he has to leave.”
“No, no,” I say, my fiery indignation simmering down into resignation. “If you tell him to leave, it just makes a big thing of it, and everyone will wonder what happened, andhe’llwonder what happened, and it’s not worth it. I’ll go.”
“You can’t go!” Shana says. “I need you here!”
“Shana.” I take her hand. “You’re such a good friend. And I appreciate the anxiety spiral you’ve sent yourself down to protect me. But this isn’t your fault.”
“It sort of is.”
Now Carter is bringing other people into the dance circle, doing a flirty tango thing with Tatiana Robinson that I wish I could unsee.
“It sort of is, yes, but my point is I love you, and we’re both going to have more fun if I get the hell out of—”
“Paging Dr. Demir,” a voice interrupts from behind us. “Paging Dr. Spear. You’re both needed in the emergency room, stat.”
There’s only one person who would greet us in such a bizarre way.
“Marigold!” Shana shouts, giving our old friend a huge hug. I definitely wouldn’t have recognized her based on appearance—her shoulder-length light brown hair is gone, replaced by a closely shaven scalp with a light blue faux-hawk spiking up from the top.It’s kind of insane but also feels moreherthan any of her previous looks.
“What’s up, kiddo?” Marigold says. She turns from Shana and wraps me in a hug. “Oh, my sweet Maggot, how have you been?”
“I’m okay,” I say. “Still hate that nickname.”
“Sorry about that.” She leans in closer to whisper into my ear. “But I come bearing a gift.”
I notice the tall, very attractive guy standing behind Marigold on the threshold of the kitchen. In all the Carter chaos, I completely forgot about the setup guy.
But, seeing as I must leave the premises, this timing is not ideal.
“Shana, Maggie,” Marigold says, raising her voice to be heard over the music and the still-ongoing dance circle, “this is my compatriot, Chord Ramirez. He is a stellar human being.”
“Hey,” he says, leaning in to shake our hands, which is when I realize that, besides being superhot and a few inches taller than me and dressed in a fuchsia button-down shirt made of a fabric so nice that it shimmers, Chord also smells very good. Like a very manly tea.
“Hi,” I say. Behind him, Shana nods at me with her eyebrows way up, like,Wow, yes, you need to make out with this guy. Stat!
“Wild party, huh?” Chord asks with a dash of irony, gesturing over to the crowd now jumping up and down to the music, randomly chucking a big couch pillow back and forth in the air like a beach ball.
“That’s one word for it,” I say.
