She took the car in a careful turn, pulling onto a gravel road. “I’d be surprised if you didn’t.”

“Wait. Friend or foe?”

Claire didn’t reply.

“Claire,” he urged, leaning closer to her. “Friend or foe? You know my enemies.”

She flicked a strand of hair over her shoulder, glancing at him from the side of her eye. “Um…”

He sat back in his seat, his back resting against the door. “You’re kidding me.”

“It might not be that bad—” she started.

He finished. “Park’s enemies? Right? That’s who it is? That’s who’s throwing the party?”

She cleared her throat and readjusted her hold on the steering wheel, as her little chin grew firm. “Sebastian Park is not on campus anymore, so that means you’re not indebted to him. You can do whatever you want, and that includes—”

He rolled his eyes, cutting her off. “I know how ruthless he can be. I think not. Park’s gone, but he’s not out of commission. Not fully. He still has some connections, and I’m not going against him. No way. If those guys who went against him last year are there, you know I’m done for. I won’t even be allowed into the party.”

“That’s not true.” Claire’s voice grew louder. “You’ll be fine, and you’re going in as my friend. You’re not working for him anymore, and besides, believe it or not, I doubt they even remember you. You do go to a different college than us.”

“Kade will.”

I sat up, recognizing the name. “Kade?”

Claire let out a soft, irritated sound. “It’s not even like that, and Kade won’t remember you. I’m sure of it. He’s…” She held her hand up, lifting it close to the car’s roof. “…up here, and you…you’re…” The meaning was clear. Jason was not a blip on this guy’s radar.

I kept my mouth shut. No way was I stepping into that.

“Thanks, Claire.”

“Well, it’s true.” She shrugged. “I’m sorry. You had one run-in with Logan Kade last year, and Park’s beef wasn’t even really with him. It was with his brother. So yes, I think Logan Kade will be at this party, but I don’t think you have to worry about him.”

I didn’t know who this Park was. Kade sounded familiar, though.

He folded his arms over his chest and fixed Claire with a brooding stare.

“Stop it.” She gave him the same stare right back. “I mean it. That’s all over and done with. You have nothing to worry about, and if you do, I’ll step in. Or Taylor will.”

“What?” My head swiveled between them. “Step into what?”

“It’s fine. If these guys come after Jason, just tell them who you are, who your dad is, and they’ll stand down. People know your mom died last year, and they respect your dad. So they won’t do anything you don’t like tonight.”

“Great.” Jason’s sarcasm was thick. “Just wonderful. I have to be saved by some girls.”

“Hey!” Claire and I cried.

“Nothing against vaginas, even your vaginas, but despite how I dress, I’m still a guy. I can handle myself.”

I leaned forward. “Do they know how my mom died?”

A sudden hush came over the car, followed by a slight wave of tension, and I knew why. It plagued me for the last nine months, but I hadn’t talked about it. No one asked, and I never offered. A counselor had asked my feelings once, but I spent the entire hour in silence. My friends never questioned me. They knew better. I’d talk when I wanted to. The last and only time I spoke on the subject was my statement to the police—until now.

Claire shifted in her seat. “Uh…no,” she murmured. “It was kept out of the papers, and I’ve never heard any word about it on campus.”

“No one talks about it on my campus either,” Jason added.

I was relieved to hear it, and as quick as I brought it up, I shoved it to the back of my mind. Seeing lights from a house growing brighter and brighter as we approached, I said the only other thing I wanted to do that night.

“Good,” I told my friends. “Now let’s get drunk.”

MOTHER F&CKER LOGAN KADE

TAYLOR

The house party had spilled out into the backyard. A river, down from the backyard’s slope, was lit up by floating candles anchored in place. It was beautiful. It gave the entire scene an almost magical feeling. My last college had parties—for the short time that I’d been there—but they were distinctly different from this. They were about beer, wine, rum, and deep conversation. I’d gotten into a few philosophical debates about religion and society’s selfishness, with Eric, the boyfriend, at my side.

He’d been at my side in high school, too. Those years had been about pretending to be mature while people hooked up, got drunk on whatever they could score, and kept one eye out for the cops. No one was running around naked tonight. A few were making out, but all in all, this Cain U party seemed tame. People were drinking and talking. Those who were swimming were doing just that: swimming. A few guys were pretending to dunk some girls, but that was the closest to shrieking anyone came.

Claire headed off to find her friends, and when she came back, I took the drink she offered. Gesturing with it around us, I asked, “Why couldn’t we have parties like this in high school?”