THE MISSHAPES were the first to show up. There were kids that we didn’t even know showing up. I was uncomfortable with all the strangers but Johnny or Marcus or Hamilton seemed to know them, and if I was around they introduced me. When some old guy came in, probably in his twenties, Johnny nearly tackled him with the strength of his hug. I didn’t know why that was.

“Bobby!” Johnny burbled. “This is my sister. He’s awesome. She’s fine.”

We both laughed. I asked him how he knew Johnny. Bobby said they met on the Misshape message board. “First time we’ve met in person,” Johnny said.

It was as if a light clicked on in my head. “That’s where all these people have heard about this, huh?” I asked, a little nervous, eyeing the growing crowd bathed in blue ice light.

“Most of them,” Bobby said. “But don’t worry, they’re a good crew. Won’t wreck the place or anything.”

“Sarah,” Johnny said, “take care of my man over here. I have to get some provisions for the partygoers.” He was making drinks. I knew it. I gave him the dirtiest look I could. We had made a deal: the party would be okay if there were no drinks. I was fine with having people over but having drunk people over was another thing entirely. I felt like a nagging wife on a sitcom.

Johnny disappeared into the crowd, making his way toward the stage. Bobby told me all about the message board and his work in Boston’s Misshape community in Boston. He helped provided free legal services to Misshapes around the country who were being unfairly prosecuted. They were petitioning the government so that they’d prosecute The Red Ghost for violating the civil rights of the man he killed. It hadn’t happened. The city and the state had already refused to press charges, and when that was announced, protests broke out. But the papers all claimed it was hooligans and riots. “I mean, Sarah, you gotta read Henry David Thoreau,” Bobby said. “That dude knew what was up. It’s important for the people to unite, to stand up and say that they’re not taking this anymore.”

I listened to Bobby and met some of his friends as the last light of the day gave way to the night. I wondered when the band would play. The stage lit up when Tape Deck plugged in some lights. Everyone cheered and then returned to their conversations. People walked by with drinks, stumbling and talking loudly. Johnny was a generous bartender.

When I went to the bathroom, there was a girl draped over the toilet, puking her guts out. She had greenish-blue hair, plaid skin, and was clutching the side of the white bowl with white knuckles. Sometimes I really hated having only one bathroom.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Ughh,” she moaned. “I need some air.”

“The air is outside. Do you want to go outside?”

“Yeah. Outside. Air.” She made a move as if to get up then slumped down and started puking again. It smelled vile. Her hair undulated when she puked, moving like a wave up toward her head and crashing at her scalp. A very Misshape power.

I didn’t know what to do. I had tried to cajole and lure her out of the toilet, and I needed to pee. At this point, I went on a mission to find my brother. I didn’t want to have people over for a party in the first place, and then super-drunk people? This was my brother’s responsibility. I was just trying to keep things relatively tame.

The band was practicing in Johnny’s room. When I knocked on the door, I heard groans, as if they were expecting to get in trouble. I opened the door and Alice’s surprise quickly turned to a glare. I hated to be on the opposite side of it. She was my best friend. But she didn’t seem like she wanted to make up any time soon.

“Johnny, there’s a girl puking in our toilet.”

“So?”

“She’s drunk. Very drunk.”

“Well it wasn’t me, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Why would I be asking, Johnny? It’s pretty obvious. I didn’t even want this party here and I have to pee, and can you at least get her out of the bathroom?”

“We need to practice now,” Alice said, her back to me, ignoring my request. “Give me a minute,” he said, getting up.

When we got to the bathroom, it smelled even worse. The girl was just slumped on the toilet, drool dripping down her mouth.

Johnny walked up beside her. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked, nudging her.“Nuhuh,” she mumbled.

“Are you drunk? Can you tell my sister here that I was not the person who got you drunk?” Johnny looked at me. “I know you think it’s all my fault, Sarah, but I was in my room practicing, so…”

“I’m not drunk, you’re drunk,” the girl blurted. She made like she was going to push Johnny over.

He lowered his voice and talked to her slowly, like they were conspiring on something together. “Look, I need to know if you’ve had anything to drink. I can make you better, but if you’re not drunk and just sick, it could be dangerous.” A large tide rose up her hair and crashed at her bangs. “So, what have you had to drink?”

“That nice girl with the singing ladies gave me two, no, wait, five, glasses of something and Coke. Berta. Her name was Berta.”

“ Betty?” I asked.

She pointed at me, shaking her finger like a schoolmarm. “Yeah! Betty. And those singing ladies. So nice. They’re soooo nice.”

Johnny glared at me. So he was innocent. Strike one for my brother. The drunk girl wailed, “I love those ladies and they’re soooooo talented and they’re going to be the best singers ever.” The last word came out in a burp.

The girl nearly toppled over. Johnny put his hands on her shoulders. “Stay still,” he said. “This will feel strange, but it will make you feel better.” She began to sweat profusely. It glistened on her skin, dripped down her face, and soaked through her clothes. The waves on her head grew more intense, the color of her hair went from greenish-blue to black, her breath grew quick and tight and her mouth pinched together, like she wanted to puke all over Johnny. But after a moment of true fear, her skin started to regain its color. The sweating stopped, and the dazed look in her eyes ceased. She shook her head and the waves subsided. The color of her hair normalized itself as a vibrant green. Johnny let go of her and she wobbled, slowly righting herself into a real person.

“What just happened?” she asked.

“You were really drunk,” Johnny said. “And now you’re not. You okay?” He looked tired. Whatever he did was exhausting.

I jabbed his arm and he winced. “Cool trick, bro.”

“I turned the alcohol in her body back to water so she feels all better, right?” The girl nodded. “Your ph and everything might still be a little messed up, but the drunk part is over.”

“Thanks,” she said and pecked him on the cheek. She waltzed out of the bathroom like a brand new person. I shooed my brother away and finally had a moment of privacy.