“Alright,” he says. “Go have some fun.”

I try to laugh, too, but I can’t even smile properly. I get up from the blanket, stumbling away from him.

Oh shit, oh shit.

I have no idea what’s about to happen to me. I really don’t know anything about Molly, which is ironic since I’m supposed to be one of Levi’s army of dealers. How long does it take to kick in? Can I go hide somewhere and puke it up before anything happens?

I’m already feeling anxious and sweaty, but I don’t know if that’s from the drug or just nerves.

Jesus, why do people do this for fun?

I’m freaking the fuck out.

Patricia grabs my arm.

“Hey! What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just . . . uh, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure. What do you—”

I was going to ask Patricia what the hell I should do. But at that moment I’m distracted by the sight of Bella Page joining Grisha and his friends on the opposite side of the fire. Grisha slings his arm around Bella’s shoulder as soon as he sees her, apparently not aware that she was out on a date with Nero the other day.

I’m not interested in ratting her out. Actually, there’s just one thing I want from Bella.

“Never mind,” I say to Patricia. “Let’s go talk to Bella.”

Patricia stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“What? Why would we want to do that?”

“Just humor me, okay?” I say.

Sighing, Patricia trudges across the sand with me, making our way toward the little knot of people.

“Hey! It’s Mario Andretti!” Grisha says as we approach. He laughs and holds out his fist to me for a bump, apparently not holding any grudge about my race against Bella.

Bella is less pleased. She frowns at me, probably thinking she can’t go one damn place in this city without seeing me.

Well, she’s right. I’m going to be all up in her face until I get what I want.

“Hey, Bella!” I say, with false friendliness. “How was your lunch the other day?”

Her eyes get big and her cheeks flush, as she realizes I could blow up her relationship with Grisha if I wanted to.

“It was great,” she says, forced to be civil.

“What lunch?” Grisha asks.

“Bella and I bumped into each other outside her dad’s office,” I say, cheerfully. “I was eating at River Roast.”

“Love that place,” Grisha says. Turning to Bella, he says, “You should have invited me!”

“I didn’t think you’d want to meet my dad just yet,” Bella says awkwardly.

“Parents love me.” Grisha grins. “I’m very charming,”

“My father doesn’t like anybody,” Bella says seriously. Her face looks sad, like that includes herself.

Not allowing myself to feel pity for her, I reach behind her and twine my fingers in a couple strands of her hair. With a quick tug, I pull them out, making Bella yelp and spin around like a bee stung her.

“Ouch!” she yells. “What the hell?”

“Sorry,” I say, vaguely. “I thought there was a hair on your shirt. Guess it was still attached.”

Bella narrows her eyes at me, silently fuming. She knows I’m fucking with her, but she can’t say anything in case I wreck her stupid lunch story.

I tuck the hairs into my pocket, hoping that I got enough of them to serve my purpose, and that they won’t be ruined by sitting in the pocket of a romper for a few hours. I really don’t know how all this forensic stuff works. I could ask Schultz, if he wasn’t such a dick.

At that moment, the strangest thing happens to me.

I’m hit with a wave of warmth and relaxation.

All of a sudden, the night seems ten times prettier than it was before. The movement of the water lapping against the shore looks peaceful and rhythmic. I hear every crackle of the fire behind me. The reflected light looks beautiful on the faces of the people around me. Their eyes are sparkling, and their teeth shine brightly every time they smile.

I feel a rush of love for all these people, even the ones I barely know. I look at Patricia, and I think how much I admire her—she’s strong and intelligent and hardworking. It was incredibly kind of her to dress me up so nice tonight, to let me borrow her clothes. I wish I would have known her better in high school.

Then I look at Bella, and I think she really is beautiful. I didn’t want to admit it before, but there are some similarities between her face and my brother’s. Her big blue eyes can be sad and vulnerable just like Vic’s. Those pretty, thick lashes are just the same. They remind me of when Vic was little and so, so sweet. They make me feel nostalgic and wistful.

Bella’s always been awful to me, but all of a sudden, I see her behavior as a reflection of her own pain, directed at me but not having anything to do with me—not really. Once I can separate those two things, it doesn’t hurt me anymore. It just makes me realize how badly she must be hurting inside, to lash out like that all the time.

I feel a compulsion to share that thought with her. To be totally honest.

“Bella,” I say. “I wish you and I could be friends. I don’t think we’re actually that different. I think you’re smart and determined. And I think you’ve been through some rough shit, the same as me. I bet we have a lot in common, despite appearances.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bella says with a horrified expression.

Her disgust at the idea of us being anything like each other makes me giggle. I’m drifting in a cloud of peacefulness. She can’t upset me at all.

“I was jealous of you . . .” I say to her. “You had money and friends. But your dad sucks. And I’ve got a great dad . . . but he’s really sick. I guess I just realized everybody has something tormenting them . . .”

Bella is speechless. Her mouth is hanging open. I can tell she’s trying to figure out if this is some new strategy on my part, some new way to get at her. Every interaction we’ve ever had is combative, so she doesn’t know how to process this at all.

Patricia grabs my arm and pulls me away from Bella.

“Dude, what is up with you?” she whispers.

I laugh. It’s funny because even though Patricia’s pulling on my arm kind of hard, it actually feels good . . .

I try squeezing her arm, and that feels good too, the way my fingers kind of sink into her skin.

“What are you doing?” Patricia says.

I laugh even harder at the baffled expression on her face.

I’m having so much fun. I don’t think I’ve ever actually had fun at a party before. It’s always been shades of awkwardness. Now I couldn’t feel awkward if I tried. I don’t care whatsoever about what happens. I’m just peaceful and interested in everything.

Everything looks lovely. Ali is still blowing bubbles from atop the cooler. The stream of bubbles looks like translucent gems, floating on the wind.

I follow the bubbles along, until my eye is drawn to the parking lot where Nero’s Mustang is just pulling in.

“Look!” I say to Patricia happily. “Nero’s here!”

I start marching off toward his car.

“Uh, I don’t think you should go talk to Nero right now . . .” Patricia says.