I take a sip of soda and check my phone for the millionth time. Where’s Jerod? He had to work this afternoon, so he offered to meet me at the party. He’d better get here soon. I am literally standing in a corner next to a potted plant trying to be inconspicuous, which is tough when you’re as tall as me and the only girl in the room who apparently missed the memo on the mini skirts.

The fact that I’m crashing uninvited doesn’t help. I figured bringing a hot guy from another school would make up for it. What if he doesn’t show?

Abi shoots me a sweet and slightly apologetic smile from across the room. I know she’d come talk to me if she could, but of course, she can’t. People might notice, and then they might wonder, and then they might start to surmise. The last thing I need is a bunch of surmising classmates. I nod in her general direction and plaster on a smile. The second-to last thing I need is Abi feeling sorry for me.

The front door opens, and my heart pauses. As anxious as I am for Jerod to arrive, part of me is terrified for that moment when he walks in and sees me standing here, friendless in my jeans and a hoodie. “Hey, dude.” I hear the voice before I see him. It’s not Jerod, it’s Chris, followed closely by Lindsay. Crap.

I knew they’d be here, of course. If I’m being honest, that’s partly the point. A round of backslapping and fist bumping and hugging and squealing ensues. Chris flows through the room as easily as a fish through water, and it occurs to me that he and Lindsay are officially a Grand View power couple. He somehow has moved into the middle of this crowd, this life, as though it’s where he’s always belonged, while I stand on the edge with the plant life.

I catch my breath as he turns and spots me. Though I am by far the most fully clothed girl in the room, I feel naked, exposed. He tilts his head and squints as though he’s trying to place me—like when you’re at the beach, and you see someone from back home, and your brain requires an extra beat to process it.

“Hey, Lexi.” He walks over. The lighting is dim, but I could swear he’s blushing. “What are you doing here? I mean, it’s cool that you’re here. I just didn’t expect to see you. And what’s that?” He frowns into my cup.

“Sprite,” I mumble. I don’t need to further stand out as the only girl in the room not drinking beers and wine coolers.

“Good. Stick with Sprite.”

His approving nod annoys me, so I decide to give him something to disapprove of. “I’m meeting Jerod. He should be here any minute.”

“Jerod? So you two are …?”

I shrug. “Whatever. It’s just a party.” As though meeting up with boys at random parties is simply how I roll.

“Lexi!” Lindsay rushes over. “What a nice surprise. I didn’t realize you were friends with Elana.”

I offer a careless wave of my hand. “Yeah, we go way back.” I’m pretty sure she knows I’m lying.

She gives me an awkward hug and a once over. “You look … cute.” I force a smile. I suppose one good lie deserves another. She screeches and rushes off at the sight of an as-yet-unhugged friend across the room, and I turn to Chris.

“I’m not sure I even know which one is Elana.”

He laughs and motions to a girl standing in the stairwell talking on her phone. “Over there. Elana Medford.”

“Okay. She’s familiar.” I’m pretty sure she’s on the swim team, though of course she looks different fully clothed. Or, well, half-clothed.

“So this is how the ‘in-crowd’ does Saturday nights, huh?”

Chris shrugs. “I guess. They like their parties.”

They? So he doesn’t even realize yet that he’s one of them—that he swept in here as naturally as his finger-roll layup.

A couple stumbles past us, clearly wasted. The guy is waving his arms in the air, ranting—something about a screwed up tattoo and the cost of getting it removed.

“And what about you? Do you like their parties?”

Another shrug. “Better than sitting at home playing video games, I guess.”

Ouch. I know that wasn’t aimed at me, but it still stings. Can I help it if I like to take out my frustrations blasting piggies? Anyway, I’d rather hang out with Stella, Matilda, and Red than with Unfortunate Tattoo Guy any day.

As if he’s read my mind, Chris leans toward me, his voice low. “There are a few idiots, but most of these guys are pretty cool. And girls. You’ll see.”

Somehow I don’t think I will see, because I can’t image hanging out with the mini-skirt crowd on a regular basis. Chris may be comfortable playing center court at a party like this, but I’m more of a back-of-the-bleachers type. “In case you haven’t noticed, my only friend until you arrived was Mr. Ficus here.” I extend my hand in an introduction. “Chris, meet the ficus tree. Ficus, this is Chris.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re whack. Briggs and Massey are here somewhere. And lots of people you know. Sometimes I think you choose to be …” He pauses, searching for the right word.

“Awkward?”

“No. You’re not awkward. More like … detached.”

“Aloof.”

“Aloof! That’s it. You need to lose the loof.”

“Be more like Lindsay, I guess.” I hate myself for saying it, and I hate myself even more for the fact that it comes out kind of whiney.

“What? No way. I mean, she’s definitely not aloof.” Chris grins and shakes his head as we watch her hug yet another cheerleader who has walked into the party. “But that’s her. You should do you. Just less aloofly.”

“I’m going to need you to stop saying that word.”

“Aloof?”

“Yes, stop. It’s starting to sound really weird.”

“A-loooof.” He howls it. “You’re the one who brought it up.”

“I know. I regret it. We should have gone with ‘detached.’”

“Oh, come on. Admit it. You loof the way I say ‘aloof.’ Aloof, aloof, aloof.”

“Stop.” I reach up and clamp my hand over his mouth, but I can’t help but giggle. He grabs me in a bear hug and continues mumbling the word “aloof” into my hand over and over. I squirm to get away, but I’m laughing so hard I can’t break his hold.

“Hey, there.” A voice as smooth as Häagen-Dazs interrupts our scuffle.

“Jerod.” Chris releases his grasp.

“Hi. You made it.” I step away from Chris, flustered.

“Of course I made it. You invited me.” He gives me a broad smile. “Wouldn’t miss it.” He shakes Chris’s hand. “Yo, man. Good to see you.”

Chris scowls and draws himself up to his full six-foot-three stature. Or is he six-four now? “What’s up?”

“Did I interrupt something?”

“No. In fact, Lexi’s been waiting for you. Why are you late?”

I jab Chris with an elbow. It’s not like him to be rude.

Jerod gives me puppy dog eyes. “Sorry about that. Got caught working a little past my shift.”

I shake my head. “No need to apologize.” I turn to Chris. “Jerod works at Veg Out.”

“Veg Out?” He says. “Well, that explains the onion smell.”

“Chris!” I grab Jerod’s arm. “Pay no attention to him. He’s just jealous because his job involves scraping gum off of seat bottoms.” I give Chris a what-the-heck glare as I lead Jerod off toward the kitchen to check out the drinks. We draw a few stares, but now, instead of feeling weird and self-conscious, I’m all smiles. Who would have thought? Lexi Malloy with a boy—a very cute boy with a gorgeous smile and a voice that’ll melt a girl’s heart. I slip my arm through his. “Thank you for coming out tonight. This’ll be fun.”

It will. I’m sure it will. Except that as we round the corner into the kitchen, we run smack into Jose Ramos, who happens to be in a lip lock with a girl, who happens not to be Anita Alvarez.