I nodded. “Yeah—I know.”

“So, are you still coming to the party tomorrow?” he asked.

“Is there still going to be booze?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. Call me and I’ll give you the address, okay?”

“Sure.” I glanced over my shoulder at the car, where I could see Sylvia watching us from the window. “I should go.”

“Me, too. See you tomorrow.”

I turned and started to walk away, but before I got too far Harrison added, “And hey, be careful out in the sun. You’re starting to resemble a tomato.”

“Yes, I’m aware. Bye, Harrison.”

When I got into the car, Sylvia had that toothy smile on her face. “He seems like a sweet boy,” she said. “Did you meet him at the Nest the other night?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you guys going to be hanging out?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh, that’s great. I’m so happy you’re making friends. I was a little worried with how you’d adjust. New place, new people. I know it can be daunting. But Harrison seems like a nice boy to be friends with.”

I let out a loud sigh, letting her know that the chitchat was getting annoying. “He’s not my friend,” I said flatly. Before she could ask questions, I leaned forward and fooled with the radio, stopping on the first classic rock station I found and turning up the volume. She didn’t turn it back down, and she didn’t push the subject.

10

“Are you going to a party?”

Bailey was standing in the doorway to the guest room that night, an hour or so after getting back from Sherri’s house. I wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there. Long enough to hear at least part of the phone conversation I’d just had with Harrison. She smiled and walked inside, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah,” I said, putting my cell on top of the dresser.

“Can I come?”

I should have known that was coming. Bailey hadn’t said much about her night at the Nest, even though I knew things hadn’t been as exciting as she’d hoped. But apparently she hadn’t given up on the Hamilton social scene just yet.

“I don’t know.”

“Please, Whitley?” she said. “I won’t get in your way or anything. I just… I don’t want to be the only girl to start high school without knowing anyone, you know?”

“You’re better off staying on your own,” I told her. “Friends are a waste of time.”

She frowned at me. “Why?”

“They just are,” I said. “The kids in high school suck. They’re selfish and fake. You’re better off being a loner.”

Bailey shook her head. “That’s stupid,” she insisted. “Maybe you’re too much of a grouch to make friends, but I’m not, so—” She broke off, a little blush on her face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to sound so mean. But seriously, can I please go with you?”

I sighed. “Whatever. I guess you can come. The party’s tomorrow night.”

“Yes!” She bounced up and down on the bed a little. “How are we getting there?”

That was a good question. Harrison was riding over with some friends of his, so he couldn’t pick me up; Dad probably wouldn’t be back from the college he was doing the commencement speech for; and there was no way in hell I was asking Sylvia to take me. She’d probably ask to meet the host and bring a tray of cookies or something.

Which meant I only had one other option.

“Come in.”

I pushed open Nathan’s bedroom door and found him sitting at his desk.

“Oh. Hey, Whit.”

He looked up from his laptop, sounding surprised. I wondered what he was doing on there. Looking at porn, maybe? That’s what most eighteen-year-old boys used computers for, right? Somehow, though, Nathan didn’t strike me as the type. Maybe it was the Spider-Man comforter on his bed or the Darth Vader bobblehead on his shelf, but he seemed to be more nerdy than pervy.

Not what I’d expected from the party animal I’d met graduation night.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“Can you drive Bailey and me to a party tomorrow night?”

Nathan frowned. “I don’t know….”

“What’s the problem?” I asked. “It’s not like you have an issue with parties.”

His expression soured, and he looked at me with distaste.

“Get over it, Nathan,” I snapped. “It happened. We screwed. I’m sure you don’t want to piss off your mommy, but pretending you’re a saint in front of me is pointless.”

“I never said I was a saint.”

“Then get the stick out of your ass and take Bailey and me to the party.” When he still didn’t move, I sighed. “Please? I want to go, and so does your sister. I just want to have a little fun, and I wouldn’t be asking if I had any other options.”

He chewed on the corner of his mouth for a second. “Fine,” he said at last. “But I’m coming, too. Someone’s got to keep an eye on Bailey.”

“She doesn’t need a babysitter,” I told him.

“She’s thirteen. She’s too young to go to a party without someone watching out for her.”

“Then I’ll keep an eye on her,” I said, hoping to talk him out of actually coming to the party. I won’t lie—part of me worried that if I got too drunk, I’d try to sleep with him again. Being at the same party with Nathan Caulfield just seemed like a recipe for disaster.

“All right,” he said. “But I’m still coming.”

I groaned. “Why?”

“I’ll stay out of your hair. And I’ll be the designated driver. I’d just feel better if I was there.”

I wouldn’t, I thought. But I knew there was no arguing with him. At least it would make Harrison happy. “Whatever.”

“All right. Do you have an address for the place?”

“Yeah.” I pulled the folded paper out of my pocket, the one I’d jotted Harrison’s directions on, and tossed it to Nathan. “I want to be there by nine, okay?”

“You’re the one who takes five years to get ready, remember?”

“Shut up.”

I turned and started to walk out the door, but Nathan said, “Whit?”

“Whitley. And what?”

“Do me a favor. If Mom asks, we’re going to see that sci-fi movie and doing late-night bowling afterward.” He looked at me seriously. “Don’t tell her about the party.”

“Fine by me.”

I made a point of getting up early Saturday morning (as in, before noon) so I could see Dad before he left for the commencement ceremony. It didn’t seem like we’d talked much at all that week. When he wasn’t at work, he was busy hanging paintings or putting away some of the things still left in boxes from the move, or else he was glued to his laptop. The only times he wasn’t busy were during dinner or when he sat down to watch ESPN with Nathan, neither of which were great opportunities to have a one-on-one conversation.

But Saturday morning, while Sylvia and Sherri went to do some wedding shopping and Nathan and Bailey were still asleep, I went downstairs to join Dad for breakfast.

“Hey, munchkin,” he said when I walked into the dining room in my pajamas. “You’re up shockingly early.”

“Yeah.” I walked through the archway into the kitchen, heading for the cabinet with the cereal bowls. “I thought maybe we could catch up before you left. We haven’t really had a chance to talk much. How’s work going?”

“Pretty well,” he said, loudly so I could hear him. I poured some cereal and joined him at the dining table. “They offered me a job on the evening news a couple weeks ago because one of the anchors is moving to Dallas. The bosses think I’d up the ratings in that slot.”

“Cool. Will you take it?”

“No.” He took a sip of his coffee. “I like my schedule the way it is now. I get home around noon and Sylvia gets home at five. If I did the evening news, I’d be leaving right before she got home and getting in late. I’d never see her or the kids.”