I DIDN’T HEAR LOUD MUSIC or see bright lights when I pulled up. And nobody had spilled onto the lawn. That had to be a good sign.

“Doesn’t seem too bad,” I said.

The bungalow was in the far corner of a quiet cul-de-sac, with a field at the back and houses all around. I had to park on the street because three cars were already in the driveway—two of which I didn’t recognize. Plus there was my dad’s van, an ugly white thing he hadn’t touched in at least a year. I’d come to hate that van. It wasn’t always that way, but pleasant memories of our one Disney road trip had long ago been replaced by ugly arguments and resentments that spilled over from the front seat.

My parents didn’t have typical husband and wife shouting matches. Even as a child I remember wishing for some of the honest anger I had heard in other families. Theirs was worse. My mom would use a cold, flat voice to deliver her punches. She hit hard, and she knew instinctively where to strike, how to make it hurt the most. I was a needy girl and wanted her anger to reassure me that she cared. I think my dad wanted it too, but she either couldn’t or wouldn’t give us that. My dad and I both navigated our losses differently.

Kael’s phone lit up in his hand. He glanced down and put it into his pocket. I felt important. Prideful as it was, I still felt it.

We were walking up the grass when someone I didn’t recognize came out of the house and walked towards the street. I saw Kael watch him until we were safely inside. It wasn’t anything obvious, just a tilt of the head, an almost imperceptible scan of where this other guy was and what he was doing. It made me wonder what Kael had experienced, and what he might fear. I tried not to let it affect my mood, thinking about what he had seen in Afghanistan. I was sure that was the last thing he wanted to talk about the night before his birthday.

I led Kael into my dad’s house for the second time in a week. Brien had only been there a total of maybe three times our entire four months of dating. He liked my dad … well, he liked trying to impress him while staring at Estelle’s boobs. She was new back then, her boobs too.

Ugh. Brien was the last person I should be thinking of. I looked back at Kael to edge him back into my mind, and also to make sure he was still behind me.

Someone’s music was playing on the TV screen. It was a Halsey song, so I knew I’d like at least one of these random people. I was relaxing a little now. Austin had been right about the party, so far anyway. There were only about ten people there and everyone seemed to be out of high school, thank God. And there was no sign of Sarina or any of her other friends and as far as I knew, she was Austin’s only high school hook up. No sign of Austin either, which meant he was either outside smoking, or in some room with a girl. As long as it wasn’t my old room, and the girl was of age, I didn’t care.

Five or six people were dotted around the living room. The rest were in the kitchen, crowding the booze counter. There wasn’t much to speak of: a bottle of vodka, a much bigger bottle of whiskey, and tons of beer. We stayed in the kitchen, moving around a guy and a girl who seemed to be mid-argument, and passing a man wearing a gray beanie. I couldn’t see his hair, but I suspected he was a soldier, based on his build. My brother always seemed to gravitate toward people in service, even when we were in high school.

Austin and I made a pact from a young age that neither of us would ever enlist, but he still had a natural draw to army life. Whether it was out of habit or comfort—the pull of the familiar and all that—I didn’t know. His curiosity scared me sometimes.

Kael stood near me by the kitchen sink, not touching or speaking, but close enough that I could smell the cologne on his shirt. The smell was sweet and it made me wonder if he had other plans tonight. I wasn’t naïve. I knew the local clubs like Lone Star and Tempra were flooded with singles and single-for-the-night’s. But I didn’t want to think about Kael at either of those places. I grabbed a plastic cup from the stack and poured in a little bit of vodka and a lot of cranberry juice.

“Want one?” I asked Kael.

He shook his head, no. He seemed tense. Whether he was more tense than usual, I couldn’t say. He looked at me as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t. His eyes leveled on the cup in my hand.

“I’m only having one since I’m driving,” I explained, slightly defensive. Guilt didn’t really feel appropriate, since I could crash upstairs in my old bed if I needed to.

“I don’t like liquor much.” I didn’t need an explanation, but it did make me wonder what it was that was making him seem so on edge.

It was like he wanted to be present, but his mind was wandering back and forth between the kitchen and somewhere else. I tried to guess where, and even considered straight up asking him, but the idea made my heart pound.

“I’ll just take a beer,” Kael said.

I handed him a can from the bin in front of me, next to the partition between the living room and kitchen. Shelves full of eight-by-tens of my dad and Estelle, and me and Austin when we were young, stared back at us. My mom had long since been erased from the record.

Kael studied the beer for a moment, rolling it in his hand before popping open the tab.

“Natural Light, huh?” He raised his brows. They were so thick, they shaded his deep-set eyes and helped hide him from the world. Like he needed help with that.

“Yep. The best of the best.” I took a gulp of my vodka mixture. I felt it fast, my cheeks and tummy warming up.

Kael took a drink of the watery beer. I lifted my cup to touch his can. “Happy birthday! You’ll be drinking legally in about three hours,” I joked.

“And you in a month,” he said, taking a swig of the beer and making a face. I didn’t blame him. I much preferred vodka over heavy bubbles of beer. It was my go-to when I drank. Drink less, feel more.

Another plus with vodka: I knew exactly how much to drink before I would get too drunk. I’d pretty much mastered vodka. I’d been drinking it since Austin and I had gone to that Seniors Only party back in South Carolina.

Austin and I were probably the only freshmen there. We scanned the place when we arrived, but it didn’t take long until Casey, a popular seventeen-year-old, made a beeline for Austin. She was one of the popular seniors. Popular. I hated that word. Austin didn’t, though. He knew it was his way in. The moment he complimented Casey’s eyelashes—it was something lame like, You have the longest eyelashes—well, that was it. Five minutes later, they were tongue-to-tongue and I was left to wander the party by myself.

The only person who talked to me was a boy who had a mustard stain on his shirt. He had sharp canines, like a wolf, and he smelled like orange Lysol. I left him in the hallway by the bathroom and found the vodka bottle in the freezer. It was cool going down. That’s probably why I drank so much so fast. Too much. Too fast. I ran to the bathroom with my hand covering my mouth, holding in the vomit. Unfortunately, I ran into Lysol guy again, and he looked at me like I was the pathetic one. Maybe I was? I mean, I was the one pushing people out of the way to get the toilet.

But that was then and this was now. That party was different. I was different. I had learned to hold my liquor. And I was no longer the girl who couldn’t walk away from a scary guy without second guessing herself. I felt safe with Kael. Interested and interesting. Like I was the senior at this party.