Punk 57

“Do you see him?” I yell into Ten’s ear.

He winces, turning away from his conversation with Manny to answer me. “I haven’t looked for him.”

Okay. Relax. We just got here.

But things have finally calmed down between Misha and me, and we’re having fun. I just don’t want something dumb to screw it up.

I came clean to the guys in the car, figuring there was no harm anymore in telling them Masen’s real name. Misha said he wasn’t coming back to school, and I have real friends again. I feel awkward about lying.

“Do you want something to drink?” Ten asks, indicating his breast pocket.

I wave him off.

“Wanna dance?” J.D. asks at my other side.

I gaze around again, looking for Misha.

“Yeah,” I finally answer. Why not? He told me to have fun.

J.D. leads me out onto the dance floor while Ten and Manny sit down at a table. I glance back at them, seeing Manny look around nervously like the other shoe is about to drop. But then…Ten reaches over and grabs him by the tie, pulling him in closer, so he can straighten it.

I almost laugh. Manny looks taken aback, but a look passes between them, and I’m kind of curious.

Nah. Ten would never date a goth.

J.D. and I join everyone else on the dance floor, moving to the music as others laugh and talk. The energy and atmosphere is incredible. It’s dark and crowded, and it feels like what Misha talked about in one of his letters. About realizing you’re one of many and not feeling so alone.

I almost feel unseen—not on display—and I kind of like it. The song ends, and I fall into J.D., breathing hard and laughing. The fog machine and heat of so many crowded around is weighing on me, and I reach into my wrist purse and pull out my inhaler. I look around, hesitant. I usually go in the bathroom.

Screw it. Taking a puff, I see J.D. do a double take, but he only looks surprised as I take another one and try to inhale.

“You okay?”

I nod, giving him a thumbs up. “I’m fine.”

I slip the inhaler back into my purse and let him come in close. He places his hands on my waist as we slow dance.

“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” someone says.

I turn around and lock eyes with Lyla and Katelyn, who are glaring as everyone dances around us.

Lyla’s arms are folded over her hot pink dress. “It’s almost too precious for words,” she muses.

Katelyn smirks behind her, and I drop my head forward, faking a snore. “Oh, I’m sorry.” I pop my head up, looking at J.D. “I fell asleep. What happened?”

He chuckles.

In all honesty, though, I deserve Lyla’s animosity. I wasn’t a good friend. But with her, I’m not sure anyone can be.

I notice Trey lumbering toward her from behind and watch as he falls on her, draping his arms over her. His eyes are hooded, and he can barely stand.

“Hey, how goes it?” he slurs, gesturing between J.D. and me. “You, too, huh? You skip around pretty fast, girl. I like it.”

Oh, please. I turn away from him but not before I see Lyla trying to shrug him off.

“Come on,” he calls behind me, “friends share, J.D. You take mine for a spin, and I’ll take yours.”

Trey grabs my arm, but J.D. knocks him off. “Stay away from her.”