"You've been holed up in here for days, and I know it's not because of work." Luna puts her hands on her hips and glares at me. "Either spill the details or get out of those pajamas and come out with me."

"I haven't been holing up in here," I protest. "It's nine at night. I'm wearing pajamas because I'm going to bed."

Nothing's wrong. It's just that the professor I've been fooling around with decided that hooking up with me is totally messed up, so we shouldn't do it. Of course, he made that decision after completely ruining me by showing me how crazy awesome orgasms can be and getting me addicted to him. Now I totally want to lose my virginity to him, but I can't because he has some antiquated notion of protecting me – or doing what's good for me, or boundaries, or something.

"You've been going to classes and work, but nowhere else."

"Have you met me? That's my usual schedule."

Luna arches an eyebrow. "Don't think I haven't noticed you sneaking around late at night before. And those were not late nights you were spending at the library. I'm not going to pry because it's none of my business, but I'll just say that whatever is going on, you can talk to me about it if you want, because I consider us friends."

"We are friends." If I were going to talk to anyone about Mr. Gabe, it would be my roommate. Luna is strong-willed and independent and she doesn't take crap from anyone. The problem is that it's too big a secret even for Luna. Mr. Gabe could lose his job over hooking up with me.

Besides, nothing's happening anymore, which makes the entire issue moot.

"Seriously, nothing's going on. I've just been buried in studying."

"Uh-huh," Luna mumbles. "Well, tonight is Friday night and tomorrow I have to go drive down to my mom's house for the weekend. You want to come with me to visit her?"

"I think I'm going to try to get some work done this weekend."

Luna groans. "Fine, nerd. I'll accept you not going with me for the weekend, but you're not working tonight."

"It's late. I'm going to go to sleep soon."

Luna gestures at me to get up. "No, you're not. Get up out of bed and take a shower, because you're coming out with me."

"I'm perfectly content going to bed early on a Friday night," I huff. "Where are you going, anyway?"

"Out," she answers vaguely. "Just go shower and put some clothes on – something cute. And makeup."

"Not unless you tell me where we're going."

She sighs. "A party. You need to get out, and there's a house party one of my friends is playing at."

I raise my eyebrows. "A friend?"

Luna blushes. I've never seen her blush. "Just a friend. He's the lead singer of this really cool band."

Now I bolt upright in bed. "You totally blushed! You like someone?!"

I think I pegged Luna as being far too cool for crushes, but she actually has a crush on someone.

"No," Luna scoffs, making a face. "He's just… cool. And kind of hot."

"But you don't want to take me. I'm not cool, and I've never been to a house party. I'm more likely to decrease your cool factor if I go."

Luna laughs. "Whatever. It's not a frat party, anyway. It won't be wild. And I'll stick with you, I promise."

"I don't know…"

"I'm playing the roommate card," she insists. "The roommate code of ethics obligates you to go with me. No one else I know is going."

I groan louder now. "Come on, that's low. You know that I'm susceptible to manipulation by guilt. My father is a pastor."

Luna grins. "I know. And you're going to feel terrible if you don't go with me. I go by myself, and then something awful happens to me. What if I get mugged walking home all alone?"

I scowl. "You're a horrible person."

"Get in the shower."

"Fine." I let out a heavy sigh, throw off my comforter, and hop out of bed.

My first party. I'm torn between being excited and apprehensive.

And also a tiny bit guilty. Mr. Gabe was so irritated when I talked to Randolph in class. He would probably blow a gasket if he knew I was out at a party where there were lots of boys.

Of course, he did just dump me, so it would serve him right, wouldn't it?

"Yay!" Luna squeals.

"You just squealed," I note. "Like a cheerleader or something. You must be really into this guy."

"Shut up."

I laugh and gather my shower stuff. "I'll be fast," I tell her.

"I promise the party won't be horrible."

"Don't sell it so well," I reply sarcastically.

An hour later, we're at a party in a house down the block from Mr. Gabe's neighborhood, which means that I can't stop thinking about the fact that I'm so near his house, I could easily slip out of the party and walk straight over there.

I tell myself that is not happening. I shouldn't even be thinking those thoughts at all.

So I focus on having fun.

Once I've been here for a minute, I've decided parties are not my bag. This one isn't horrible by any means – but this wouldn't be up there on my top ten list of favorite activities. It might not be a fraternity party, but the music is loud enough to be deafening and there are so many people here that it makes me anxious. That feeling doesn't go away the longer we're here, either – especially when Luna makes it worse by pulling me closer to the band to dance.

I feel like the most awkward girl in the world. I've never danced before, not once. I have no idea what to do, and that makes me so self-conscious that I want to just crawl into a hole and get away from everyone.

Luna is oblivious to my discomfort. She leans close to me and yells in my ear: "See? I told you it would be fun, and you look great!"

I try to swallow my discomfort and yell back: "Which one is the guy you like?"

"Lead singer!"

"Oh, he's cute!"

Luna's cheeks go pink again. Inwardly, I groan. She's been so nice to me, and I need to suck it up and make it through the party since she really likes this guy. After all of the things she's done for me, it's the least I can do for her.

I dance awkwardly until the band finishes their set and I need a break from the crowd. "I'm going to go to the bathroom," I tell her.

"I'll come with you!" Luna yells, but then the lead singer sees her and waves. Since she clearly likes him, I give her a nudge.

"Go say hello and I'll meet you back over here," I reassure her. "I can go to the bathroom myself."

"Are you sure?"

"Go!"

"Okay, but I'll be right up there talking to him."

Making my way toward the edge of the room, I head toward a hallway in search of the bathroom. Someone bumps into me from behind.

"Hey, Purity!"

I whirl around at the sound of the familiar voice. Randolph from my creative writing class stands there holding two red plastic cups and looking pretty handsome in a faded Kelly green t-shirt and jeans. He's exactly the kind of guy I should be interested in – nice, close to my age. Entirely appropriate.

He's the opposite of Mr. Gabe.

And I'm not attracted to him at all.

"I thought you didn't do parties," he teases.

"My roommate dragged me here. She knows one of the guys in the band."

"So not coming to my party wasn't an attempt to snub me, then?"

I flush warm. "Is there a good answer to that question?"

"Probably not." He laughs as he hands me one of the cups he's holding. "Here. I was getting this for my friend but you look like you need a drink."

I hesitate for a second, about to say, "I don't drink." I've never touched a drop of alcohol in my life and I'm underage, except that saying I don't drink would probably brand me as super uncool in a matter of seconds, so I take the cup.

I'll just have a sip, that's all.

"Thanks," I tell him, standing there trying to look casual but feeling very awkward.

He gulps from his cup. "It's cola but it's spiked," he says, pausing. "I mean, spiked with rum, not anything else. I didn't roofie it or anything."

Oh, God. I didn't even think about possibly being roofied.

He looks sheepish as he runs his hand through his hair. "Shit, this isn't going well, is it?" he asks, holding out his cup. "Do you want to trade drinks? I just drank out of this one, so you know I didn't spike it with anything shady. I mean, I wouldn't do that, by the way." He laughs uncomfortably. "I swear that you're not the first girl I've ever talked to in my life."

I let out a laugh. "You're almost as awkward as I am."

"I swear to God there are some people who actually think I'm cool."

I take a sip of the drink and nearly choke. Holy crap. The alcohol burns as it goes down my throat, even mixed with soda.

"Too strong?" Randolph asks. "Sorry. It was for my friend, so it's a little extra potent. It's also not the best rum ever, either. But it's better than the shitty keg beer they've got here."

"It's okay." I shrug casually, as if I'm just not used to the taste of poor quality alcohol – and not like I've never tasted alcohol in my life.

We make a little bit of small talk and I drink another sip. This time, the taste isn't so shocking. After a few more sips, the alcohol begins to warm my belly, and I start to relax. By the time I've finished half my drink, I'm feeling better than I expected. The alcohol lowers my anxiety a lot and makes me giggly.

Before too long, I've downed the entire cup.

"You want another drink?" Randolph asks.

My head swims, and I giggle stupidly. "If I had another one of those, I'd probably pass out on the floor."

Randolph raises his eyebrows. "You drank it so fast that I figured you were a big drinker."

I laugh a little too loud. "Um… nope. Not a drinker at all."

"Oh, shit. There was quite a bit of booze in that."

Just then, Luna comes back. "Oh my God, I've been looking all over for you! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"I met someone from my class!" I exclaim brightly. My mouth feels thick. Am I enunciating clearly?

Enunciating. I wonder who came up with that word?

Luna glares at Randolph – at least, I think she does, but I can't be entirely sure because I'm kind of fuzzy right now, which for some reason seems hilarious and makes me giggle. Luna acting like a stern parent upset with my bad behavior also seems hilarious.

"Are you okay?" she asks me.

"I'm drunk!" I intend to whisper, but it comes out more like a yell: I'M DRUNK!

Luna grabs the empty cup from my hand and sniffs it before turning to Randolph. "Did you give her booze?"

He shrugs. "Lighten up, Mom."

She shoves the empty cup at him. "She doesn't drink, you idiot."

"I've never had alcohol before," I agree emphatically, "but it's SO GOOD!"

Luna scowls and grabs my arm. "Let's go," she says, pulling me away. I give Randolph a little wave as we leave.

"Where are we going?? You're walking too fast, Luna!"

Outside of the house, she stops with her hands on my arms. "Look at me," she demands, squinting as she stares into my eyes.

"You're being creepy right now." I giggle.

"I'm looking at your pupils," she replies. "Why would you take an open drink from a stranger?"

"He's not a stranger. He's in my creative writing class!" I exclaim brightly. Everything I say is so bright and cheery because of the booze. Everything around me seems so fun and upbeat and colorful - even Luna, who's scowling at me. "I know him! It's Randolph!"

Luna groans. "First of all, you're underage, dumbass. Second of all, you never take an open container from anyone. Hasn't anyone ever taught you that?"

"Who would teach me that?" I ask her.

She sighs. "Okay, consider this a lesson. Never take a fucking open drink from someone. They could slip anything into it."

"Oh, he said he didn't roofie it."

She groans louder now. "Shit, Purity, come on."

"I'm totally cool now," I assure her, stumbling as she pulls me. My body feels slow and tired and my legs seem less coordinated than normal. "We can go back inside. I'm having fun now!"

"You chugged that drink, right?"

I nod.

"Well, then, you're not going to be feeling good for long," Luna says. "Unless you're a secret lush and you've never told me about your drinking habit."

"Nope, it was my first time," I declare proudly. "See, I can try new things! I went to a party and got drunk – I'm checking things off of my bucket list!"

Luna laughs and rolls her eyes. "Come on, my world-weary friend. Let's go back to the dorm before you get arrested for public intoxication."

"Oh, no! Am I going to get arrested?? Where are the cops, Luna?"

"Chill out! There aren't any cops right here. But you need to walk straight, girl."

"Girl," I groan, my voice petulant. I lean too hard against Luna when she links her arm through mine. Why can't I seem to talk straight? I didn't have this trouble a few minutes ago, but I can't quite get my footing. "Girl, girl, girl, little girl. I'm so sick of people calling me a little girl."

"What are you talking about?" Luna laughs, trying to hold me up as I stumble against her. "Shit, you're going to be so hung over tomorrow. You need to chug a gallon of water back at the dorm room."

"My first hangover!" I exclaim brightly. "Some people call me little girl. Well, one person calls me little girl – one person I hate with every fiber of my being. I mean, not really. I don't really hate him. Well, I didn't used to hate him. Now I hate him."

Luna just laughs as we walk down the sidewalk. "Okay. I'll call you Drunk Girl instead. Let's get you back to the dorms, Drunk Rambling Girl."

"Yes," I slur. "Back to the dorms. To the dorm rooms, STAT. Onward, march. Dorm rooms ahead."

I need to stop talking. I especially need to stop talking about Mr. Gabe.

But my brain seems to think that talking about Mr. Gabe to Luna would be the BEST. IDEA. EVER.

I'm just about to blurt out that I've been hooking up with my professor. I'm about to tell Luna everything, for no other reason than it seems like a great idea in my very fuzzy head. Luna will know what to do about the whole Mr. Gabe situation.

She's smart about things like this.

I open my mouth, ready to confess everything, when I see him walking down the sidewalk toward us with his dog Hemy. At least, I think it's them. They could also be figments of my drunken imagination.

"Hemingway!" I blurt out.

Luna laughs. "Did you just say Hemingway? Getting drunk and talking about Hemingway? Yeah, you're totally a writer."

"The dog," I mumble. "Do you see the dog?"

"Yes, I see the man walking his dog," she says, her voice slow like she's talking to a child. She stops and stares. "Wait. Is that your professor?"

"You see him too, right?"

"Yeah, and you need to straighten your shit out right now unless you want your professor to see you totally wasted," she hisses as they approach us. She hangs on to my arm. "I'm sure you're not the first student he's seen from one of his classes who's been trashed before, but I know how you're a good girl and you don't want to –"

"Professor Ryan!" I blurt out as he reaches us.

Totally casual, I tell myself. Be totally casual and cool, and he'll think we're just two girls having a night out on the town. I'm totally not upset about him being a jerk and telling me he wanted nothing to do with me – obviously, because I just came from a party and couldn't care less about Mr. Gabe.

"Purity?" he asks.

A wave of dizziness hits me. I stumble hard against Luna, who struggles to hold me up.

"Are you drunk?!"