We can hear the band from half a block away. “Wow, that’s loud,” Jerod says. “Bet the cops show up before the night’s over.”

We pull up and watch as a crowd of kids spill out of Briggsy’s front door. “We don’t have to do this. Your head’s already hurting. The death metal won’t help.”

“I’m fine,” Jerod insists for the millionth time. “Don’t worry about me.”

We head in and weave our way through the sea of partiers to the kitchen, where we rummage through a cooler for drinks. Jolene and Brendon are standing in a corner by the refrigerator talking, or rather, shouting, since that’s the only way to communicate. Brendon seems angry. He’s saying something about the band, but I don’t have time to process what’s happening with them, because no sooner do I grab myself a bottle of water than Abi appears at my elbow, her eyes wide and her expression slightly panicked.

She grabs both my arms and leans in to scream into my ear. “You need to get upstairs.”

“What? Why?”

“Just go. Second bedroom on the left.”

“Second? Isn’t that—” Crap. It’s Briggsy’s room. What’s going on? Is he up there with another girl? Abi disappears before I can ask, so I hand Jerod the bottle of water and tell him I’ll be right back.

I want to take the stairs two at a time, but it’s impossible in heels and a gown. Instead, I clomp up them as quickly as possible, muttering under my breath the entire way about how hard I’m going to clip Roland Michael Briggs on the side of his big fat stupid head and how I’m going to give whichever twit he happens to be messing with up there an earful. I hit the landing and push my way through a group of girls waiting in line to use the bathroom and barrel toward Briggsy’s room. I consider knocking but decide that’s better than he deserves, so I fling open the door and— “Oh, my gosh!”

“Ack! You should’ve locked the door!” A half-naked Lindsay glares at me from the bed as a guy in a black tux hovers over her.

“Wrong room. I’m so sorry.” I shield my eyes because I seriously do not want to see Chris’s face at this moment, but as I back out and pull the door shut, I turn to spot a tall guy with blond hair rounding the corner at the other end of the hallway. I blink and take off after him. “Chris?”

He swivels, and I practically run into him as I turn the corner. “Hey, Lexi.” He frowns. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I … um. No. I mean, yes. I’m fine. How are you?”

His brow furrows. “I’m good. I was looking for Lindsay. Have you seen her?”

“Lindsay? No. Can’t say that I have.” I assume what I hope is an expression of innocence. “I’d know if I saw her. I mean, who could miss her with that red dress and all?” I grab Chris’s arm and pull him down the hallway, past the offending bedroom door, and down the stairs. “I bet she’s in the kitchen or the den or … have you checked the basement? I heard some kids are down there playing that Dance Revolution game. I bet she’s really good at that.”

I practically push Chris toward the basement door and slip away to find Abi. What the heck is going on? Who is Lindsay with?

I’m taller than almost everyone in the room, so I quickly spot her standing by the fireplace with Briggs. I catch her eye and hold up my phone. As she digs her cell out of her pocket, I text her to meet me in the garage. On my way there, I catch a glimpse of Carmella and Jerod talking and laughing in the dining room. She has her hand on his arm. Part of me is annoyed that Carmella is so obviously moving in on my date, but the other part of me is relieved that Jerod might find someone who appreciates him. I might feel less guilty about this whole night. Not that I deserve to.

“Can you believe it?” Abi bursts through the door and launches herself at me. She grabs my hands in hers. “I told you she’s a lying wench.”

“Hold up. Tell me what’s going on.”

“You mean you didn’t see them?”

“I saw Lindsay. In fact, I saw way more of Lindsay than I needed to. But I couldn’t tell who the guy was.”

Abi glances around, making sure we’re alone. “Ty Walker.”