I thought of every statistic and news story my parents had made me read about the dangers of mixing alcohol with other drugs. “That’s dangerous and illegal.”

“Calm down,” Chad said, putting himself between me and the dresser. “It’s no big deal. A little pot takes the edge off your stomachache so you don’t throw up.”

He was an expert on this? How often did he do drugs? “And then you can drink yourself into a coma instead?”

He picked up a joint and took a drag. “See? No coma. Just fun.” He tilted his head back and blew out a puff of smoke. “You wanna try some?”

I folded my arms and stared at him. I felt nothing but contempt for him in that moment. “I’m sure Elise told you that I’ve had a crush on you since the eighth grade. But now that I know what you’re like, I think you’re a complete jerk.”

He took another drag. “You had a crush on me?”

Elise shook her head. “I never told him, Cassidy.”

Chad smiled and blew out more smoke. “Since the eighth grade, huh?”

I stepped away from the smoke. The last thing I needed was to come home smelling like pot. “Didn’t you hear anything else I said? I think you’re a jerk.”

He took a step closer to me, still smiling. “Your eyes sparkle when you’re angry. Did you know that?”

Elise walked over to us, her eyes tight with anger. She put her hands on her hips. “I can’t believe this. Are you hitting on my friend while I’m standing right here?”

“I’m just teasing her,” Chad said. “Chill the hormones.”

I took hold of Elise’s arm. “We’re going home right now.”

Elise didn’t answer. We heard a noise downstairs, like something crashing. Chad held up his hand. “Shh.”

We all listened in silence. The music had stopped. We heard raised voices, but not what they said. Footsteps muffled everything.

“I’ll see what’s happening.” Chad put down his joint in an ash tray and strode to the door. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as he was gone, I snuffed out both joints, smashing them hard. “This isn’t living life to the fullest, Elise. It’s living life to the stupidest.”

Elise’s hands were still on her hips. “I can’t believe my boyfriend flirted with you. He was flirting with you, wasn’t he?”

“He was mocking me.”

“Oh.” She paused for a moment. “Should that make me more angry, or less? I can’t think straight. I’ve had too much to drink.” She put her hand on her throat. “I really hope I don’t throw up.”

“Where’s your coat?”

“Downstairs. But we have to wait until Chad gets back. I want to say good-bye to him and yell at him for flirting with you.”

I glanced out the window and saw movement down on the street. I went over for a better look. That’s when I saw people fleeing from the house. Someone dropped from a nearby window. He seemed distinctly familiar.

“Hey, Elise, isn’t that Chad running across the lawn?”

She looked, then grabbed my hand. “Oh, no! The party’s busted!”

Chapter 14

Before Elise’s words could register in my mind, she had pulled me from the room. I wasn’t sure where we were going or what we were doing or even exactly what “busted” meant, but her panic was contagious, and I ran after her.

The police met us on the stairs.

Elise and I weren’t the only ones who’d managed to be apprehended by the armed forces of Pullman. A dozen or so kids hadn’t been quick enough, or coherent enough, to escape. The guy under the table had to be carried outside. The rest of us were escorted.

A big van with two benches on the sides and padded walls waited with the door open. I could smell the inside of it from fifteen feet away. It was like an outhouse on wheels. Two police officers were helping kids climb in.

I went and found the officer in charge. “Excuse me,” I said, “but I’m not part of this party. I was only here to pick up a friend. She had too much to drink, and I was giving her a ride home.”

“Well, honey, you’re a few minutes too late. Now we’ll give you both a ride—down to the station.”

“But I didn’t drink anything,” I protested. “Isn’t there some kind of test you can do to prove I’m not drunk?”

“Down at the station.”

I looked around the street at the flash of blue and red lights that pulsed shadows onto the sidewalk. “My parents are expecting me to come home. Can’t you have me walk a straight line? It’s not illegal to pick someone up, is it? You’re not going to arrest me for that, are you?”

“No. We’re not going to arrest you.”

I let out a sigh of relief.

“We arrest adults. We detain juveniles.”

“But—”

He held up a hand to stop my words. “Look, when we find drugs at a party, we take everyone in. Everyone.”

“Drugs?” I had touched the ashtray when I’d snuffed out Chad’s joint. Could they get my fingerprints off it? Did the police do that sort of thing? I felt sick. Then I remembered Elise had been in the room too. She was my witness. If they questioned me about it, she could turn in Chad and clear my name.

Elise was angry enough at him that she would probably volunteer the information anyway. From the moment we ran into the police, she’d done nothing but issue a stream of curses on his name, his family, and several of his body parts. It didn’t make a good case for her sobriety, but at least I knew her loyalties.

“All right,” I said. “I’ll go down to the station to clear my name.” Then I thought about the paddy wagon and its outhouse smell. “Can I drive my own car?”

“No,” the officer drawled. “You’ll ride in my car in the backseat cage, and as an extra bonus, you can wear our famous designer police bracelets.” He held up a pair of handcuffs, jiggling them so they rattled. “They’re the latest fashion rage. All the kids are wearing them—at least, all the kids at this party.”

I took a step backward. “You’re going to handcuff me like a criminal?”

“No. The criminals get handcuffed on their feet too. But if you’d like to put up a fight, we’ll oblige you.”

I got into his car quietly. Well, nearly quietly. As he shut the car door, I called out, “I’m pretty sure this is a violation of my civil rights.”

The officer didn’t answer. I was sandwiched between two completely drunk girls. One kept burping; the other passed out and leaned her head on my shoulder.

I thought of my note back home on the kitchen table. Were my parents home yet? If they weren’t, they would be soon. I pictured my mother reading it, checking her watch, then reading it again. I could even see her lips tighten as she did it.

I was in trouble. Massive trouble. Enormous, immense, colossal trouble. Any synonym for huge—that’s how much trouble I was in.

I rehearsed the events of the evening in my mind and tried to pick out my mistake. What should I have done differently? I couldn’t have let Chad take Elise home. I couldn’t have left Elise alone in the bedroom. I couldn’t have dragged Elise out by her hair, either. Maybe my mistake had been walking into the house at all. Maybe I should have stood on the front porch and rung the doorbell until Elise came outside. I wondered if the police would have detained me for standing on the porch and ringing the bell.

When we got to the station, we were escorted into a lobby-type area. Elise walked over so she stood next to me. All I could manage to say was, “My parents are going to kill me.”

“You worry too much,” she said lightly. “Think of this as an adventure—something to tell your grandchildren about.”

“An adventure is when you do something fun. This is a nightmare, and I don’t want to tell my grandchildren about it. Even more, I don’t want to tell my parents about it.”

“Then don’t.”

“Right. What will I say to them? I’m here at the police station visiting? I dropped by to make sure the justice system was moving along smoothly?”