WALKING TO THE PARTY, I can already hear the music and laughter from the end of the street. I have no idea what to expect, and I’m terrified. Fletch puts his arm around me and pulls me to his side. “It’s not a big deal, I promise.”

Sure. Right. Not a big deal. Just my first college party. My first party ever without Jenna. We climb the steps of the house. I don’t even know whose house it is. I won’t know anyone there except my roommates, and I’m guessing they’re going to know everyone. And probably will disappear with whatever girls they pick for the night, leaving me alone with all these people who probably won’t like me.

The second we walk in the door, I’m blown away by the loud music and house full of people. There must be fifty college kids in the living room alone, all talking, dancing, and drinking. There are several beer kegs set up, and I’m handed a huge plastic cup of beer. Fletch immediately takes it away from me.

“Hey!”

Shane grabs the hand I’m trying to reach with to get my beer back. “You don’t drink anything not given to you by me or Fletch tonight, Velma. Promise?”

“I’ll go get us beers,” Fletch says. “Watch her.”

“Like a hawk, dude.”

I swing around. “Are you chaperoning me?” This is ridiculous.

“Want you to have fun, little bit, but you’re not used to partying, and you might not be as careful as you should be. You can drink as much as you want, but we’ve got your back.”

I’m not sure if I should be flattered or miffed. I guess flattered. But really, why are they hanging out in places where it isn’t safe for girls to drink from cups?

“How long do I have to stay?”

Shane rolls his eyes. “Let’s dance.”

I dig my feet in. “No. I never said I would dance. I won’t dance. No. Never.”

He shrugs and then the world tilts and I’m hanging over his shoulder like he’s a fireman and I’m being rescued. The shirt he cut the bottom from is riding up my torso, and the shorts he made out of my jeans are feeling a little invasive too. I felt dumb wearing them, but he said all the girls are wearing Daisy Dukes and Ugg boots like mine, and he wasn’t wrong.

He pats my ass while I kick and tell him to put me down. Which he finally does. In the middle of people dancing. I guess that wasn’t the most interesting thing happening because no one is even looking at me.

“I can’t believe you did—”

He turns me in his arms and pulls my back to him roughly. “Dance, little sister.”

I grit my teeth. “I don’t know how.”

“Then just relax.”

“I don’t know how to do that either.”

He laughs low, his mouth so close to my ear. “Close your eyes. I got you.”

I don’t have much choice, his arm is banded around me too tightly for me to bolt. So I close my eyes. The music is loud, bass seeping through the walls and the floor, enveloping us in its fullness. He sways my body to the low thumping beat, snaking my hips the way he wants them to go and grinding on me from behind. I’m starting to see that no complicated footwork is involved, and I can pretty much just let him move me. I feel the throb of the music in the center of my body, and the vibrations are pushing out the thoughts that usually crowd my brain. I like this feeling. This lack of thought. Shane’s fingers grasp me harder, melding us together as we gyrate to the beat. I like this too. I lose myself to the rhythm.

“That’s it. Just like that,” he says, splaying his big hand on my hip so that his thumb is under the hem of my shirt. Just his thumb. It shouldn’t make me feel so wanton. But just that thumb pressing into my bare skin is like direct pressure on my clit. How does he do that?

His chin is resting on my shoulder, and we’re barely moving, but he’s growing hard behind me, and I’m getting wet. I open my eyes, half expecting to see everyone staring at us in horror. But nobody is even paying attention. That’s when I see Fletch weaving across the dance floor. He hands us each a bottle and leans down to talk in my ear so I can hear him above the music. Or below, as the case may be, because his voice is super low. Like subterranean low.

“Don’t worry. I opened it myself.”

I nod. It’s sweet how they are looking out for me. What’s not sweet is how I’m instantly thrown back into our kitchen make-out session. With Shane’s hands on me from behind and Fletch right in front of me, all my senses are remembering the way it felt to taste and be tasted. To be the middle of a roommate sandwich. I’m parched and try to drain my beer to find some relief.

“Hey, hey.” Fletch tips my bottle back down. “Take it easy.”

While I don’t go to parties, I do have some experience with beer. But I let him think he’s keeping me from danger since it seems to make him feel good. I’m not drunk, but the effects of the alcohol shore up my resolve a little bit. I grind a little into Shane while Fletch watches, his eyes never leaving mine. Shane’s hand tightens on my body. I like the flare of heat in Fletch’s eyes. It’s not jealousy. It’s awareness.

Up to now, I’ve sort of just been whirled into whatever caper these boys have decided would be titillating. And it’s worked. Mostly. But every encounter seems to crack the door open a little more, and I’m ready to see what’s on the other side of it. But I will never find the answers I seek if I never take an active role.

“Hey guys...you should introduce me to some boys now. You know everyone here...which guy should I try to get to know better...first?” I watch carefully as a play of emotions crosses Fletch’s face. Interestingly, I see a bit of jealousy. A bit of possessiveness. And then resignation. He and Shane share another one of their wordless conversations that I’m sure are like the ones Jenna and I have. But I hate not knowing what they are thinking. It’s a secret boy world, and I’m tired of being locked out.

Fletch takes my hand and untangles me from Shane, and we head over to the beer pong table. They are both very...present in my atmosphere. One boy makes eye contact with me, but before I can so much as smile, I’m being crowded by my muscular escorts. They are rippling with some kind of alpha power tonight. I thought the objective for them bringing me here tonight was for me to be seen by other guys who might take my research to the next level, but instead, they seem to be sending other guys very distinct “back off” signals and I’m confused. Is it because I’m the little sister or is it ...no, it must be them thinking they need to take care of me. Be my chaperones.

A guy wearing a football jersey bumps Fletch on the shoulder. “Hey, man.”

Shane and Fletch both give him their version of ‘sup, and then he looks down at me.

“Hey.”

I smile, hoping it’s not one of my super awkward smiles like...well, every single school picture hanging on my parents’ wall. “Hi. I’m the roommate girl.”

The roommate girl? What is even wrong with me? Shane snorts a laugh and Fletch introduces me as Penelope and the boy to me as Jones. Whether that’s his first or last name, I don’t know.

They talk about sportsing. I tune out. There are a couple girls looking over at us and talking, and that’s when Shane pats my ass. I get to see their reaction, and I really am living in a high school movie right now. The fact that I’m completely new on everyone’s radar and yet am nonchalantly hanging out with three jocks, one of whom is casually making passes, makes me someone to watch.

Jones didn’t notice the ass pat or doesn’t care. “Need another drink, Penelope?” He’s about the same size as my roommates, except for his neck, which is not quite proportionate if I’m saying it kindly. But he has a nice face and might be a potential—

“We got her drinks, man,” Fletch says, like it’s some kind of personal affront to his manhood. Or maybe he doesn’t trust Jones. Jones doesn’t look like the kind of guy who roofies a girl’s drink, but then, I guess nobody does look like that. Or we’d all know and stay away from him.

“Sure, why don’t you go get one while I dance with her?” Jones suggests.

He doesn’t actually ask me, which is a strike against him, and Shane uses his body to wedge between us. “Do you want to dance with Jones, little bit?”

I know this is probably not scientifically a thing, but the testosterone in the air around the three of them is heavy enough to be felt physically. “Um. Yeah. Sure.” Shane steps back and Jones takes my hand.

Shit. I forgot I don’t know how to dance.

We get to the dance area, and I sort of mimic what the other girls are doing unless they look like they are literally doing their dance partner right there on the dance floor. Jones puts one hand on my hip, but he doesn’t grind on me or pull me to him like Shane did. Which is good. I’m not quite ready for that with a stranger. I’m surprised I was ready for it with Shane, to be honest.

“You want to go someplace quieter?” he asks me after the dance and we’ve moved off to the side.

My gut reaction is no. But then again, since no is my first response, maybe I should try for something different if I want different results. I can’t use any of my newly acquired kissing skills on anyone if I never say yes.

“Or maybe we can grab a coffee Monday?” he offers, obviously watching my response.

Wow. So it appears that he likes me enough to engage in caffeine and conversation. This is huge for me. He hands me his phone to add my contact information.

I try not to act like I’ve just been crowned Miss America but getting a guy to want my phone number is pretty momentous. Especially since my talent is chemistry equations and the bathing suit competition would really not make me a shoe-in for the tiara.

Jones gets called to the beer pong table, so I end up back with Fletch and Shane. Shane gives me a discreet fist bump.

Fletch gestures to the door where a group of about six girls just came in. “Time to go,” he says.

“Really? Why?”

Fletch is finishing his beer, so Shane answers. “Looks like high schoolers. Never stay at a party when the locals show up.”

Fletch nods. “It’s always trouble.”

Judging from the pack of wolves descending on the girls, I guess some guys like trouble.

“Shit. Coach’s daughter is in that mix.”

As we get closer to the door, the girl I’m assuming is Coach’s daughter steps in Fletch’s path. “Hey, Fletch.”

“Hi, Aylie. Your dad know where you are?”

“It’s my birthday. I’m totally legal now.”

“Not legal to drink.”

I don’t mention that I’m not legal to drink yet either.

She gets up in his space, and I watch her moves very carefully. She’s got game for sure. And she’s after Fletch. “Do I get a birthday hug, Fletch?”

“Aylie, have you met my girlfriend?” He thrusts me into the not-enough-space between them. “This is Penelope.”

She’s got about five inches on me, and she makes the most of them as she looks down, taking me in from head to toe. “Really?”

I’m not even offended. I’m just as surprised as she is. “Um, hi?” I manage to eke out.

“We’re just leaving,” Fletch says as he wraps his arm around me.

As we get closer to the door, I hear someone telling her friend. “Oh, my God. Shane totally had his hand on her ass earlier. Do you think Fletch knows?”