Rennie gives me a fake smile where only the corners of her mouth go up, and Ash leans over and hugs me. “Lil, everything’s a mess,” she wails.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her.

“Derek told me tonight that he wants to keep it casual; he doesn’t want to be in a serious thing his senior year.” Ashlin blows her nose with a cocktail napkin.

“Ugh,” I say. “That’s so Derek.”

“Ash, this is the best thing that could have happened,” Rennie says, taking a sip of her beer. “Derek isn’t boyfriend material.”

I push the bowl of chips toward Ashlin. She stuffs a handful in her mouth and says, “But you and Reeve are totally a thing and Lil and Alex are probably going to get together too. Who does that leave me with? PJ?” She makes a disgusted face.

I don’t say what I’m thinking, which is, Um, excuse me, but Reeve and Rennie are so not a thing because Reeve and I are. I wait to see if Rennie will correct Ashlin, but she keeps sipping on her beer. All she says is, “Aw, PJ is super cute. Don’t worry, Ash. You’ll find the perfect guy for you like I did.”

I stand up because I can’t listen to this garbage anymore. “Ash, I’ll be back in a sec. I’m going to go make sure nobody’s upstairs.”

Rennie rolls her eyes. “Nobody’s going to have fun if you’re running around all uptight like a prison guard. Hello, it’s supposed to be a party. You need to chill out.”

I’m about to snap back at her when Reeve comes bursting into the living room. He scoops Rennie up off the couch and throws her over his shoulder like she weighs nothing, which she does. “Put me down, Reeve,” she squeals, kicking her feet.

“No shoes in the house, Ren!” he says, pulling them off her feet. Then he tosses her back down on the couch, and her cup of beer tips over and spills everywhere; some splashes on my arm. “Awesome. Thanks, guys,” I say, sopping up the floor with napkins.

Reeve bends down and starts helping me. “Sorry, Cho.”

“Chill out, Lil,” Rennie says, her face red from being held upside down. “It’s beer! Beer gets spilled at a party.”

“Rennie, I swear, if you tell me to chill out one more time . . .” I say it and I mean it; I’m not joking.

Rennie narrows her eyes at me, and we stare each other down. Reeve tries to put his arms around both of us, but I shrug away from him.

Then Alex wanders in with a paper plate in one hand and a beer in the other.

“Hey!” I say to Alex. “I haven’t seen you all night.”

Alex swallows his bite of pizza. “I’ve been around.” He takes a swig of beer. “Oh, and I went to pick up the pizzas and they said somebody already got them.”

I clap my hand to my mouth. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! I totally forgot to text you.”

Alex stuffs the rest of the slice in his mouth. “No worries.”

“I’m so, so sorry, Lindy,” I say, and Rennie rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, sorry, Lind,” Reeve drawls. “I took care of it.”

Alex looks from me to Reeve, who is still standing next to me. Quickly I say, “They were on his way to get the kegs, so I thought it would be easier.”

“No worries,” Alex says again, resting his plate on the coffee table. Then he pulls his wallet from his back pocket, and my stomach twists in a knot. He takes a few twenties from the billfold and holds them out for Reeve. “Here.”

“What’s this for?” Reeve asks him, his eyes narrowing on the money.

Alex takes a step closer, still holding out the cash. “I told Lil I wanted to take care of the pizzas.”

“‘I told Lil I wanted to take care of the pizzas,’” Reeve mimics back in a whiny-baby voice. “Too late. I already got it.”

Alex’s face goes red. I’m about to tell him to let it go, but before I can, he tosses the money on the coffee table. “Keep the change.”

Reeve says, “I’m not the delivery boy, you dick.”

Alex laughs dryly. “Who knows . . . in a couple of years, you might be.”

My hands fly to my face. I can’t even believe Alex said that. I’ve never seen him talk to Reeve that way before. On the couch, Rennie rears up like she’s going to tear into Alex.

Reeve’s fist is clenched at his side, and I just know he’s about two seconds from flattening Alex. I have to do something, fast.

Heart racing, I gather up the bills and hand them back to Alex. Nicely but firmly I say, “Thanks, Lindy, but Reeve’s got it covered.” Then I let my body fall against Reeve and slide my hand into his.

It’s a tiny display, subtle and quiet and barely anything. But it only takes a second before Alex’s jaw goes tight. I turn my head and look at Rennie, on the couch. Her mouth has dropped so far open that I can see her molars. My whole body squeezes tight with nerves, but I don’t move.

They are all seeing this. Us.

Then Reeve glances down at me, shocked. And definitely not happy. He pulls his hand free from mine and says, “What are you doing, Cho?” like I’m out of my mind, like we didn’t have that conversation in his truck, like we’ve never even kissed. Then with a chuckle and a shake of his head, he steps away from me, picks up Alex’s paper plate, and disappears into the kitchen. And I’m left there, standing in front of everyone, with my mouth wide open.

What just happened?

I can’t bear to see the look on Rennie’s face or anybody’s face. I spin on my heels and quickly head upstairs. What was that talk about doing what feels right, and people can go to hell if they don’t like it? I was the one who said we should be discreet!

I go straight to my room and close the door and plop down in front of my vanity. My hair looks like crap, super flat but not in the shiny, sleek way. It’s probably because I’ve been running around for the last two hours cleaning up other people’s messes. I drag a brush through it roughly, then I put on a fresh coat of lipstick because most of it has worn off. I can feel the music from downstairs pumping through the walls, and I just want to lie down on my bed. I wonder how soon is too soon to kick people out.

I’m sure he did it because he was embarrassed. Because of the thing Alex said about him becoming a delivery boy. Maybe I handled it wrong. I could have given him space, let him do his bravado thing, and waited for a better moment.

I guess I felt bad for him.

Sighing, I head back downstairs to check on things. From the foyer, I hear the roar of a car engine peeling down my driveway. I peek through the curtains. It’s Alex’s truck.

Great. Just great.

In the sitting room I notice a water ring on the coffee table, and I try to smudge it out. I go into the kitchen to grab some Pledge, and that’s when I find Rennie sitting on the floor, her back up against our oven door. Reeve’s standing over her.

“Reevie . . . I feel wasted.” Her head sways from side to side, her hair hanging in her face. “Will you please take me home?”

I peer at her. She’s had, like, two beers. I’ve seen her finish a sixpack in under an hour and not get tipsy. “Wow, I didn’t even see you drink that much,” I say.

Rennie’s eyes suddenly snap into focus on me. “Maybe someone put something in my drink.”

I reel back a step.

Reeve stands up. “Ren, how much did you have?”

“I don’t know . . .” Rennie moans, now back to acting wasted. “I lost count.” She’s totally putting on a show. She’s only been at the party for like thirty minutes, and a second ago she was fine. “I’ll drive myself home. I don’t want to make you leave.”

“There’s no way in hell I’d let you drive like this,” he says, shaking his head.

He helps her to her feet, and then he hoists her up and Rennie wraps her arms around his neck. “You’re the bestest, Reevie,” she sighs, closing her eyes and snuggling closer.

“Go get your coat. I’ll meet you by the front door.”

“Okay. Huuuuurry.” Rennie wobbles off.

When Rennie’s gone, Reeve says to me, “I’m gonna drop her off.”

I stare hard and fold my arms. “I don’t even know what she’s doing here in the first place!”

Reeve straightens and says, “She’s here because all of us are, Lil. All her friends. What’s she supposed to do? Sit at home alone?”

I feel my lip curl. How many times did Rennie make it so I was doing exactly that! “Can you please not defend her to me?”

“I know she can be a bitch sometimes, but she’s a good girl at heart.” Reeve runs a hand through his hair, then glances over toward my front door. “Look, I’ll drop her off and then I’ll come back.”

I screw my lips together. “Don’t bother. I’m gonna make everybody leave soon anyway.” I flick my hair over my shoulder. “Just so you know, Alex left.”

Reeve sneers. “Good. Little rich boy punk bitch.”

“Reeve!” I glare at him.

From the front door I hear Rennie call out Reeve’s name. “Reevie! I’m ready!”

He glances back. “Look, let me take care of this, and then I’ll come back to help you clean.”

“I can do it myself.”

He sighs, exasperated. “Are you mad at me?”

Coolly I say, “Why would I be mad at you?”

Reeve grabs my hand and says, “I swear I’ll be right back. Give me twenty minutes.”

I want to tell Reeve not to come back tonight, but I can’t bring myself to say the words. Because I do want him to. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I can’t help it.

I smooth down the pleats of my skirt. “Okay. If you want.”

After looking over both shoulders to see who’s around, Reeve plants a quick kiss on my forehead. Then he fishes his keys out of his pocket, asks me to save him a piece of pizza, and he’s gone.

When everybody else leaves an hour later, I turn down Ash’s offer to help me clean up. I hustle her out the door, and then I run upstairs and change into my cute pj’s, a pink cami with a bunny print and matching shorts. I feel nervous butterflies as I put on lotion and the tiniest dab of my Lillia perfume at the pulse of my neck. I put my hair up and then I put it back down.

I’ve never been alone with a boy in my house before. Anything could happen.

I don’t want it to go too much farther than kissing. Okay, I kind of do, but at the same time I don’t. I’m not ready yet. And anyway, I’m still angry. And I’m going to give Reeve a piece of my mind for sure. So I figure we’ll stay downstairs on the couch and that will have to be it.

While I wait, I clean up the living room, throwing away plastic cups, wiping down the tables, fluffing up the couch pillows. It’s taking so long for Reeve to come back, I even get out the vacuum cleaner. Another hour goes by and the kitchen’s clean too; the house almost looks back to normal. I set out two pieces of pizza on a nice plate, not a paper one, and I cover it in plastic wrap so I can heat it up when he gets here.

That’s when I get the text. It says, Stuck at Rennie’s. Not gonna make it back tonight. I read it twice to make sure I’m getting it right. He’s ditching me. For her.

Rennie and I never had crushes on the same boys. She had a rotation of boys that she liked, boys who were loud and brash and you never knew if they were making fun of you or if they were serious. She liked the ones who made her feel unsure. Because Rennie was always, always sure.

As for me, the only Jar Island boy I ever had a crush on was Patrick DeBrassio. And even then, it was the kind of crush you have on your friend’s big brother, when you’re safe in knowing that nothing will ever come of it. I was his little sister’s friend, a baby.

So Rennie and I didn’t have crossover crushes, but there was this one time it almost happened. It was that summer before ninth grade. This was when Rennie and Kat and I were all still friends. But this happened on a day when it was just Rennie and me.

There was a new boy scooping ice cream. He was there for the summer, but he looked young like us; he couldn’t have been older than fifteen. He had dirty-blond hair and a small mouth, and he was wiry but you could tell he’d be tall and strong one day. I’d seen him twice already, and both times I made Nadia go in front of me so he could be the one to take my order. I liked his dimples, and I liked how careful and precise he was with the ice cream scooper. All of his scoops came out perfect.

That afternoon there was a lull. I was trying to decide between strawberry basil ice cream or blueberry sorbet, and I was working up the nerve to ask if I could try a sample of one, when Rennie leaned on the freezer and asked him, “How old are you?”

Rennie had been doing that a lot this summer—talking to boys we didn’t know, boys who were on the island for the week, the month, the summer at most. Kat would join in sometimes, but it always made me feel shy.

His head jerked up; he’d been wiping the counter. “Why?” “Because I know for a fact that you have to be sixteen to work here, and you don’t look sixteen.” She said it in her ballbustery way, but with flirty eyes. The Rennie signature move. Rennie was so confident, even then, that he’d want to talk to her, that he’d be intrigued by her gutsiness and attitude.

“How old do you think I am?” he asked her.

“Fifteen, tops,” she said. “So how old are you?”

“Fifteen,” he admitted. “I got the job because my uncle owns the place. I’m here for the rest of the summer. How old are you?”