Hi! I've been having a heck of a time motivating myself to write and edit. When you do it for a living, sometimes it's hard to come home and want to do it for fun. I've got a fun idea for the next chapter, so I just need to push myself to write it out!

In the meantime, enjoy this one! Priya's probably my favorite part of the whole chapter. You'll see why.

Chapter Fourteen: Of Confidence

"I think Heather Hills hates me."

Shea snorted. "No shit?"

"It's not my fault!" She could hear Rodrick slam his van door shut through her phone, the noise momentarily making her recoil. "I didn't notice the cameras."

"Cameras?" she repeated flatly. Shea peered out her windshield for any sign of Sam, who had to stay late to talk to their math teacher about extra work, but couldn't find him in the crowd of seniors walking to their cars.

"She was filming her promposal and I walked right into the middle of it."

"Her what?"

"Promposal. Some guy was asking her to prom," he explained.

"And she was filming it?"

"Because it was a promposal. They're usually overdramatic." Rodrick paused. "I can't believe I know more about this than you."

Shea honestly had no idea what a promposal was. Although, come to think of it, it was kind of weird that she saw so many guys down on one knee in the hallways between classes.

"It sounds stupid," she said, making a mental note to check Pinterest later for other examples of the strange trend.

"It is."

"Although, now that you mention it, I'll only go to prom with you if you burn my name in your lawn with gasoline," she teased.

He barked a laugh. "With my luck, I'd catch on fire."

"Worth the risk. So did Heather chew you out?"

"Well, no," Rodrick stammered. "She said they could film it again, but she sounded really pissed off."

"Whoa, that was oddly understanding of her," Shea said bitingly.

"Actually, she's kind of nice to me lately. She said hi to me in the hallway the other day. She's never done that before."

"Even after you—what'd you call it?—blew her mind at her sweet sixteen party?"

"She definitely hated me then," Rodrick admitted. She heard him lower the volume of his radio before continuing, "I guess she's being nice because Greg and Holly are together. It's been two months. That's forever in middle school years."

"Nothing good can come from her being so sweet to you."

"Whatever. She's still hot."

Shea sighed. "You can't see me rolling my eyes right now, but I am."

She heard him stifle a laugh. "Okay, I see Ben coming. We'll be rehearsing late tonight. Pitchfork said they might be able to fit us on the roster in the next week or two."

"That's amazing!"

Pitchfork was a popular metal bar just outside of Chicago that the boys had been dying to play since they got together. Shea was so proud of Rodrick, Ben, and Chris; as juvenile as they could be, they really had been working hard and their efforts were definitely paying off. Their Facebook likes continued to climb, and people at school were preemptively asking Rodrick when they were playing a show. Shea knew that he still wasn't popular at school by any means, but his ego loved the attention. Rodrick's classmates knew that his band was slowly surging towards fame and now they all wanted to ride his coattails to the top. She thought briefly of Heather Hills; she had a feeling she knew why Heather was suddenly being so nice, and it had nothing to do with her sister dating his brother.

"I know, I can't believe it," Rodrick said, snapping her out of her brief daze. "I'll talk to you later, okay? Love you."

"Love you too." She snapped her phone shut, her stomach suddenly churning unpleasantly.

"Have you ever heard of promposals?" Shea asked Priya that evening.

"Yes. This girl who has a locker next to mine had it covered in streamers and washable paint the other day," Priya said from the couch. She and Sam were lounging with their feet up on the coffee table, sipping water and watching TV, while Shea cooked vegetable stew for dinner. Shea was grateful that her dad was out at happy hour with his friends because he probably would have whined endlessly at the prospect of eating vegetables for dinner. "At least, I think it was washable."

"Did she say yes?" Sam wondered.

"Of course. True love never fails," Priya said sarcastically, which made Sam laughed.

"I think it sounds so dumb," Shea said, carefully chopping the carrots (and not her fingers).

"You're just jealous because Rodrick could never think of something cute or clever like that," Sam teased.

Shea rolled her eyes. "I'd rather save a proposal for marriage. What happened to just asking someone?"

Priya shrugged. "I guess I can see how it's romantic. It'd make you feel special, anyway. Did Rodrick ask you to prom?"

"Well, no," she answered, dropping the carrots into the pan, causing them to sizzle loudly. Her stomach welcomed back the uncomfortable pang of nerves at the realization (what if he didn't think she was special?), but she ignored it. "I just assumed we'd go together."

"We don't seem like the prom type, huh?" Sam said. "I mean, it's just a dumb dance. Except more expensive."

"Yeah, but it's a rite of passage," Shea countered. "Everyone goes to prom. Plus it might be kind of fun to dress up and talk shit about everyone."

"Speaking of, we need to go dress shopping," Priya said excitedly. "Prom's in two weeks. And I can ask my parents about using the beach house for the weekend."

"Ooh, now that sounds like fun!" Sam beamed. "Drinking all weekend in the warm sun… Yeah, I could get into prom."

"That would be awesome!" Shea chirped. "I'll let Rodrick know. And by the transitive property, Ben and Chris."

"There was too much math in that sentence," Sam said.

Shea snickered. "I know, right?"

"Cool. I'm sure they'll be into the drinking part," Priya said. There was brief moment of silence while Shea added the broth and stirred. "I can't believe we're going to prom. Geez, what happened to senior year?"

Shea also couldn't believe how quickly this year went by. It seemed like just yesterday she was going to an end of the summer party at Ben's friend's house. And now in just a few short weeks, Memorial Day would signal another season of work at the country club. And then in a few short months, she'd be navigating Plainview Community College's campus with Rodrick. You know, as a college student. She wondered how they'd adjust to the new classes and how their relationship would change when she suddenly remembered the catalyst for the conversation: Heather Hills.

"You know what's weird?" Shea started, walking into the living room.

"What?" her friends choired.

"Rodrick was saying that Heather Hills has been really nice to him lately."

"That is weird," Priya scrunched her face in confusion. "I wonder what she wants."

"What do you mean?" Shea asked. She thought of her boyfriend's mild rise to fame and her throat tightened.

Priya must have heard the nerves in Shea's voice because she suddenly back pedaled. "Nothing. Don't worry about it. Maybe she realized what a crappy person she was and now she wants to turn it all around."

Shea didn't think the answer was that simple.

The good news, though, was that Shea thought their prom, and post-prom, plans sounded pretty solid. Even though she was not normally a school-sanctioned social function kind of person, she was oddly looking forward to finding a cute dress and seeing her boyfriend in a tux. The excitement of senior year was finally crawling under her skin—she couldn't wait to have some well-earned, carefree fun with her friends.

She was hoping Rodrick would share the same enthusiasm, but his position on school-related activities hadn't budged.

"Prom? Really?" he snorted, flipping through pages of his metal magazine. He shifted his feet in Shea's lap, ignoring the way she recoiled at the scent of his socks.

"Yes, really," she sighed, pushing his feet off her lap and onto the floor. "It's in two weeks, so we still have time to buy tickets and…"

Rodrick cut her off. "I really don't want to go."

Shea persisted, "I need you so I can go to Westmore's prom. Priya's already taking Sam and Lindsay's taking Nicole." He grunted, so she continued, "We could bring a flask and drink. Make fun of people we don't like. And Priya was going to ask her parents about using the beach house over the weekend."

"I can't," he said simply, turning a page.

"You can't?" her voice rose sharply. She didn't mean to snap, but Rodrick definitely knew how to push her buttons. "You don't want to get drunk at the beach with your friends?"

"We're playing Pitchfork Saturday night," he said simply. "So we need to rehearse on Friday."

Just like that, Shea's visions of a stretch limo and posed photos evaporated. "Seriously?"

"We have to be perfect for this show," Rodrick insisted. "It could be our big break."

"You've been saying that about every show since I've met you," she said bitterly.

He glared at her. "I'm being serious."

She held his stare for a moment before she felt her insides deflate. Her anger melted into defeat.

"Yeah, yeah. I know it's a great opportunity. But Priya and I were planning on going dress shopping this weekend. We figured we could all chip in for a limo and dance together and…"

"I'm sorry," Rodrick said, not sounding sorry at all.

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

Shea propped her head on her hand and stared blankly at the television. So much for prom and senior year fun. She wasn't sure if what she was feeling was selfish: she knew she should be supporting Rodrick's goals—and Pitchfork was a massive opportunity for them—but she couldn't help but feel burned. How the hell would she get into Westmore prom without him? Would she even have fun without him? She imagined herself done up in full make up in a floor length dress, jealously watching couples spin slowly on the dance floor. Maybe she should just stay home and video chat with her brother.

She was about to pull out her phone to text Priya her bleak situation when Rodrick asked, "You really want to go?"

"Yes," she said, mindlessly swiping at her home screen. "I think it would be fun."

He took a deep breath. "And it's on a Friday night?"

"Yes."

"I guess we can rehearse all day Saturday," he conceded. "If you really want to go."

Shea's heart swooped into her stomach. "But you don't want to go."

"But you do," Rodrick smirked. "I can put on a tux and talk shit with you for one night."

She couldn't help but smile. "You won't be disappointed."

Over the next two weeks, Shea's level of excitement for prom surged, while Rodrick's level of excitement landed somewhere in the range of an innocent man in high security prison awaiting his turn on death row.

Once Shea had picked her dress—a floor length sparkly, floral orange dress with an exposed waist—and he knew what color vest to wear, Rodrick couldn't care less about whether or not they rented a limo, what kind of corsage Shea should receive, whether he should wear a tie or bowtie… Trying to talk details with him, even fun details like what kind of liquor they should sneak in their flasks, was met with overwhelming apathy ("This audition is way more important than prom," Rodrick scowled). Shea kept telling herself that at least he was going, and that if he was going to be a brat she could always dance with Priya and Sam, but his mood was contagious. Soon enough, the last thing she wanted to do was go to this dumb dance, but they'd already paid their bids (an outrageous $75 a person).

"He's just being a baby," Shea effectively surmised.

It was finally prom night: Priya was playing with her hair, trying to braid it, while Sam fussed with the edges of his tux, trying to make it look smooth.

"Boys are like that," Priya sympathized.

"Hey!" Sam snapped. "I'm pumped for prom. And whatever we find afterwards."

"Probably back to Ben's to drink," Priya said, combing her fingers through Shea's hair. "It's such a shame we couldn't get out to the beach. But they do need to rehearse."

"That's what Rodrick would rather be doing," Shea sighed. "Rehearsing."

"They'll be fine tomorrow," Priya said dismissively.

"If they don't drink too much," Sam quipped.

Shea rolled her eyes. "I just wanted a nice night with him."

"He'll lighten up once he sees how much fun we're all having," Priya reassured her. "Plus, Ben was pretty excited to go."

"I think he's excited for the flask."

Her friend snickered and then tugged at her hair; it felt like she was braiding it, but Shea wasn't sure. After a beat, Priya said, "Did I tell you he asked me?"

"Who?" Sam wondered.

"Ben," she answered coolly.

"Uh, no you did not," Shea said. She thought it was weird that Ben didn't tell her about his crush—or Rodrick for that matter. "What did you say?"

"I don't date white boys," she said simply, and Sam barked a laugh. "I'm tired of being their exotic crown jewel of India. And no offense to Ben, he's nice and all, but he's so not my type."

"Sheesh, what a rough night for love," Sam said.

"He took it well," Priya said, although Shea wondered how much he was faking. "He said he understood."

"Maybe he'll hook up with Heather Hills tonight," she suggested.

"Is she still being nice to your boyfriend?" Sam wondered.

"You bet," Shea said. "I don't trust her."

"I'm sure she's harmless," Priya said dismissively. "Dumb people often are."

After another hour under Priya's calculated hands, Shea was ready. Her hair, normally straight and past her shoulders, was braided like a crown around her temple and curled at the ends. Her shaved spot was showing and her dress was tight on her body. Although Shea never dressed much like it, she felt very girly and very beautiful. She was especially in awe of Priya, who pulled together her own stylish up-do in 20 minutes. Her friend was wearing a dark purple trumpet gown and shimmery purple make up that made her look much older than 18.

"Jesus, Priya," Sam whistled. "No wonder Ben has a crush on you."

Shea had to agree. "Damn, girl."

Priya's cheeks reddened. "Shut up. It's photo time!"

The boys and everyone's families were eagerly awaiting the girls' entrances in Priya's foyer. Sam hurried down the stairs in front, talking very loudly about how beautiful they looked (his volume made Shea wondered if he'd had anything to drink yet); when Shea and Priya appeared, the room gasped and squealed collectively.

"Oh Shea!" Jennifer gushed, snapping a photo with her camera. "You girls are gorgeous!"

Ben gave two thumbs up. "Looking good, ladies!"

Despite herself, Shea's cheeks turned bright red. She stepped lightly down the stairs towards Rodrick, whose jaw had fallen open.

"You look amazing," he said eagerly, grabbing her hand. Even though he spent all of his free time whining about going to the prom, he looked very handsome in his black tux.

"Thank you," she smiled.

"Really," Rodrick insisted, weaving their fingers together. "You're beautiful, Shea."

Shea grinned so widely her cheeks hurt. When she kissed him, she heard Susan scold, "Save that for later! We've got pictures to take!"

"Yeah, come on!" Sam hollered in a drawl that confirmed he'd been sipping from his flask upstairs.

After all the photos, they were late to prom, of course. But who cared? It was prom! Priya found an empty parking spot towards the back of the lot of the Plainview Manor (Plainview's snottiest ballroom… no wonder tickets were so expensive) and broke out their shot glasses for celebratory drinks.

"Well, we're almost fucking there, kids," Chris toasted, raising his glass. "To prom!"

"Cheers!" the group exclaimed, and then drank.

The alcohol burned Shea's throat, but she looked forward to the pleasant floating feeling that accompanied her buzz. The group all made the same grossed out face, then chuckled when they noticed their shared expressions.

"We're such delinquents," Priya giggled. "How about another round?"

"Who are you and what have you done with Priya Gupta?" Ben said, filling her glass.

Priya quickly did the shot. "Fuck it. It's prom night."

That logic made sense to everyone, so they all did one more shot each and then wandered into the ballroom. Soothing dinner music flowed out of the room, the noise filling Shea's ears. She and Rodrick stood in the back of the line in the front of the room, waiting to sign in.

"Oh," she said suddenly, nudging her boyfriend. "Why didn't you tell me that Ben liked Priya?"

Rodrick smirked. "It was never going to happen. Priya doesn't date white guys."

"Still," Shea insisted with a smile, "I like to be in the loop."

"Sorry," he said, sighing. "I've been so wrapped up in band stuff I must have forgotten. I'm just so stressed out about…"

As if on cue, a few dolled up Westmore girls walked by, cutting him off, "Hi, Rodrick. We're excited for your show tomorrow."

Rodrick waved back, suddenly forgetting what he was about to say. Shea was having a hard time getting used to her boyfriend's sudden, albeit mild, popularity. She tried not to be consumed with jealousy, but she sometimes wondered if Rodrick liked the attention too much. She knew that Priya would tell her if she saw Rodrick cheating, but she couldn't help but worry.

"Are you going to dance with me tonight?" Shea purred, wrapping her arms around Rodrick's waist. Part of her hoped the girls were still looking so they could clearly see that he was claimed.

"Lemme get a little drunk first," he bargained, tapping his pocket.

She was thrilled that he was even considering it. "Okay!"

Inside, the Plainview ballroom was spacious and beautiful, decorated with low lights and purple and pink hues. Lindsay and Nicole, who had been waiting for the group, snagged an empty table towards the back of the room so they could all sit together. They had arrived just in time for dinner (already cold, despite just coming out of the kitchen) and then the dancing began. The boys hung back at the table while the girls (plus Sam) broke it down on the dance floor.

Shea honestly wasn't sure what to expect about prom. Although this kind of school-friendly event was so not her scene, she had an awesome time dancing with her friends and classmates—some she didn't even know—to hit pop songs. Part of her wanted Rodrick to come out and have fun, but she liked seeing him laughing with Ben and Chris—and passerby fans—at the table. Shea would occasionally take a drink break to visit with him, crouching to sip from his flask, and then swim back onto the dance floor.

She couldn't tell you who won prom king or queen. Or half of what the DJ was saying. Or whether or not she was making a huge asshole out of herself (she was). But she was having a blast.

But towards the end of the night, Shea was beginning to miss Rodrick. Even if he wasn't drunk, she wanted to spend a little time in his arms. But when she glanced back at the table, her heart stopped: Heather Hills was sitting with the boys, flipping her hair and laughing loudly at whatever they were saying.

Shea grit her teeth and growled. Priya, seeing what Shea saw, clicked her tongue.

"Don't worry about," she slurred. "Stay here. Have fun!"

Next to her, Priya shimmied to the new Nicki Minaj song. But Shea couldn't stop watching the way Heather reached for Rodrick's hand, or the way she kept crossing and uncrossing her legs. She told herself she wasn't jealous, but the roaring fire in her chest said otherwise.

"Hey!" she said brightly, standing behind Rodrick. "Are you properly liquored?"

Rodrick shrugged. "I'm happy. What's up?"
"Do you want to come dance with me?" she asked coyly, bending over in hopes he could see her chest.

"We're talking to Heather," he gestured to the blonde girl, who was grinning at seemingly nothing.

"I know, but I miss you," she said, and then kissed his cheek.

"They've been playing a lot of good songs," Heather agreed. When Rodrick didn't agree, the girl burst, "I know what will get Rodrick up. Let's dance, Sarah!"

"Shea."

"Whatever."

Heather pulled her arm, rather roughly she might add, onto the edge of the dance floor so Rodrick could watch. Shea stood dumbly, not really sure what to make of the situation, while Heather wiggled sensually around her. Shea felt like an abused stripper pole; she wasn't rude enough to tell Heather to fuck off, but also not dumb enough to reciprocate. Meanwhile, Heather dropped it low, ran her hands up Shea's curves, and even grinded against her; she wanted to recoil, but she was horrorstruck that it was happening at all. Shea had been dancing like that with relative strangers all night, but this was making her sick.

When the song ended, the boys erupted in applause. Heather giggled and kicked up her heel like she was a school girl.

"You should come to my after party," Heather said loudly in Shea's ear. "Bring Rodrick."

"Yeah," Shea muttered, and Heather disappeared into the crowd.

"What was that?" Priya burst, stumbling towards her friend.

"I feel like I need a shower," Shea joked, and Priya laughed.

"That was hot," Rodrick said, closing the circle.

"You're disgusting," Shea pinched his arm. "She invited us to her after party. Can I get a big hell no?"

"Aw, come on," Priya grinned. "It might be fun."

"Yeah, I kinda wanna go. She told us about it too," Rodrick said, pointing to Ben and Chris.

"Am I the only one who sees something totally fishy in all of this?" Shea felt like she was going crazy. "Heather Hills is a bitch."

"She's being nice now. And her house is gorgeous," Priya argued. "We should go."

"Definitely," Rodrick agreed.

Shea couldn't believe she was being outnumbered. "Ugh."

The lights lowered and a slow song started. Priya squealed at the change of pace and ran into Sam's open arms.

Rodrick grabbed her hand. "How about a dance to cheer you up?"

Despite everything, Shea relented. "Okay, fine."

And even though he was severely anti-prom in the weeks leading up to the dance, after that moment, Rodrick seemed to loosen up. He held Shea close during slow songs and danced wildly (read: badly) during pop songs. Even Ben and Chris joined in on the fun, careful to sneak sips of rum during applause or song changes. Everyone was sweaty and hot from dancing so much, but they were all having too much fun to care.

Before they knew it, the night was over, and the group slowly trudged out to Priya's dad's SUV.

"Man, I wish we were headed to the beach," Sam lamented, his voice hoarse from hours of singing.

"Me too," Priya drawled, throwing her arm over the boy's shoulder.

"Sorry we have to rock tomorrow," Ben joked, and Priya blew her loose hair out of her face. "Hey drunky, where's your keys?"

Priya dug through her small purse and unearthed them. "Here. Drive extra super duper safe, okay? My dad will kill me if you crash and kill us all."

Ben took the keys from her; Shea noticed his hand briefly lingering over hers.

"Don't worry," Ben teased, "Your dad can't kill you if you're already dead."

Shea wasn't sure if any good would come out of the party at Heather's, so she relied on her friends' excitement to soothe her. On the ride over to the Hills house, Shea melted into Rodrick, resting her head on his shoulder. He kissed her forehead and snaked his arm around her waist. Even though he'd been a big brat for the last two weeks, moments like this made his foul mood worth it.

"I can't believe she lives here," Priya gushed once they'd parked. "This is amazing."

"When we make it big, you can live in our guest house," Chris teased.

"Deal," Priya said.

The group shuffled inside towards the party, which was already thumping from loud music and laughter. Shea couldn't believe how many people fit into the Hills house. The living room was a sea of people, many of whom she didn't know, all dancing and drinking. She was quickly reminded how much she hated parties as people—she wondered intentionally—bumped into her, causing her to stumble. She quickly lost sight of Rodrick, who went looking for Ben and Chris, and she couldn't find Priya or Sam. She was honestly thinking of calling her dad to pick her up (after all, why stay when she wouldn't be missed?) when she saw Priya and Sam on the edge of the living room, holding plastic cups.

"Should you really be drinking?" Shea asked Priya, grabbing the girl's cup.

"You are such a spoilsport," Priya whined, taking the cup back. "I'm having fun. You should try it."

Shea was so used to their roles being reversed that she was hoping Priya would have learned not to be an obnoxious drunk. So much for that.

"This party's ridiculous," Sam said loudly, his voice hoarse. "I can't imagine what her sweet sixteen was like."

"How does one person have so many friends?" Shea wondered, glancing at the sea of people behind her.

"It's not friends," Priya slurred. "It's fear."

"That's very insightful of you," Sam said. "They probably want to be in her good graces."

"It makes sense. This party feels like an exclusive club." Behind her, a girl walked too closely and stepped on Shea's foot. "Ow, fuck! One that I'm clearly not a part of."

Sam shook his head. "I'll be right back. I need another drink."

The party noises engulfed their ears. Shea watched Priya wobble against the wall of the living room and then steady herself.

Priya nearly burst, "I'm thinking about having sex with Ben."

"No, you're not," Shea said, laughing. "Oh my god, no."

"He's so nice," she drawled. "And I haven't gotten laid in, gosh, over a year."

"You're drunk," Shea reminded her. "You can't make that kind of decision right now."

"Do you know the number of boys I've let you kiss while you were drunk?" Priya countered.

"Kissing and fucking are two different things."

Priya stomped her foot like a child. "What is your problem?"

"I don't want you to take advantage of Ben's feelings for you. Use a vibrator; it'll help." Just then, Shea heard a girly shriek from the kitchen. "Ugh, I can't wait to go home."

"Then let's go," Priya said acidly. "So we can go home and I can stay un-laid."

Even though it was barely permission to leave—after all, she still had four other people to find—Shea instantly felt relieved.

"You'll thank me in the morning when I remind you of this conversation," she said, grabbing her friend's hand. "You're going to be so embarrassed."

They moved slowly through the crowd. Shea wasn't sure where she was going: the Hills house was a labyrinth of rooms that didn't make sense. She thought she was in the living room, but then she wandered into a bigger living area, and then into what looked like a dining room… More than anything, she was hoping to see a familiar face.

As they wandered around the house, random girls continued to run into Shea. At first, it was just annoying. But after the fourth girl elbowed her in the ribs, she snapped.

"Watch where you're going," she burst, turning on a petite brunette in a tight pink dress. "That hurt."

The girl rolled her eyes. "Oh please, honey. Get over yourself."

Shea could feel the bite rising up in her throat. She growled and swallowed her anger, pushing forward. A few steps later, another girl pushed into her, knocking Shea into someone else.

"What is going on!" she belted, mostly to herself.

Unfortunately, one of the girls around her answered, "You're too trashy for Rodrick. Go home."

"What?" she faced the girl.

"Come on," Priya said into her ear. "Ignore them."

So Shea wasn't imagining the assaults. Or the rude looks or gestures. It was gratifying to know that she wasn't actually going nuts—that there was a reason for how awful she was feeling.

Finally, they found the kitchen. Rodrick was leaning against the counter, holding a beer, talking to none other than Heather Hills. Shea was about to step into the kitchen when Heather leaned forward, standing on her tip toes in her tall high heels, and kissed Rodrick.

"No!" Priya gasped, holding onto Shea for balance.

Heather pressed her body against Rodrick's, wrapping her arm around his neck. It was hard to tell if he was kissing her back or if she was forcing him. Still, Shea felt her energy drain from her head and neck into her stomach and feet. A hard lump formed in her throat and she felt like dropping to her knees.

"I cannot believe him," Priya steamed, letting go of Shea's hand. "Hold on, I need to find Sam, I'll be right back."

Shea watched as Priya disappeared into the crowd. Despite all the people around her, she felt so small and insignificant. Maybe she should have called her dad after all. She pulled her phone from the small purse swinging off of her arm when she heard a familiar voice.

"What the hell are you doing?" Rodrick snapped, pushing Heather off of him.

"I know you like me," Heather purred, touching his bicep.

"Liked you," Rodrick corrected. "Last summer. I'm with Shea now."

"That drug addict with the weird hair?" Heather snorted. "Please. You're going to be a rock star. You can do much better."

"Back the fuck up," Rodrick said heatedly. "She's way better than you. I dunno if you know, but I'm in love with Shea. You flirting me with won't change that."

"Don't be stupid," Heather said. "I have power and looks. She has… what? Drugs?"

"Don't fucking talk about her like that," he snarled.

Heather rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"Not what-fucking-ever. She's incredible! She's smart and funny and sexy," Rodrick said, not missing a beat. "And you're nothing."

"Get out, then!" Heather shrieked, pointing towards the door. "If you're gonna be this way, then go! You and creepy friends! Now!"

Then she shoved Rodrick towards the living room. Shea shrunk against the wall to make it seem like she hadn't just heard and seen everything. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her face was red, but she overcome with love with for her boyfriend. Rodrick may have been rough around the edges—he could be rude and crass and sometimes hurtful—but he loved her. He actually did. Shea smiled to herself as she watched Rodrick quickly scan the room. When he found her, he looked relieved.

"Come on," he said, motioning for her to follow him. "We need to go."

"What happened?" Shea played dumb, staying close behind him.

"I'll tell you later," he muttered.

On their way back out to the garage, they found the rest of their friends. Sam was wandering, lost, on his way back from the bathroom; Ben and Chris were talking music with the few guys at the party; and Priya was pouring herself another drink from the punch bowl.

They stormed out to the SUV. As soon as they were safely out of the party, Chris asked Rodrick, "What happened, bro?"

Just like that, Priya jumped, remembering what she'd seen. She raised her hand and slapped Rodrick hard across the face.

"What the fuck!" he yelped, holding his pink cheek.

"How dare you do that to Shea!" she burst, shoving him.

"I didn't—" he started, but she cut him off.

"I saw everything, you vile sack of shit! How could you do that to her?"

"Do what?" Sam prompted urgently, watching with wide eyes.

"He was kissing Heather Hills!" Priya pointed an accusatory finger at Rodrick.

"Dude," Ben's face fell.

"No," Chris echoed, sharing the same horrorstruck look.

"I didn't," Rodrick said frantically. "If I can just explain!"

Priya swore loudly at Rodrick in Hindi.

"I don't know what she said, but I second it," Ben snapped.

Rodrick shot a panicked look at Shea. She knew she should bail him out, but a tiny part of her kind of liked seeing him sweat and seeing their friends stand up for her.

"I believe him," Shea said with finality. She saw relief wash over Rodrick's face, and her friends backed down.

"Shea, I didn't," he said desperately. "She kissed me. I told her to fuck off."

"It's okay," she said coolly. "We can talk about it later. Let's just get out of here."

"We can crash at my place," Ben offered.

"That sounds great," Shea said.

The friends looked back and forth between Rodrick and Shea for confirmation. In a moment of quiet, Priya lifted her hand and slapped Rodrick once more.

"Ow!" Rodrick wailed. "What was that for?"

Priya swore once more in Hindi.

"You're not speaking English!" Rodrick yelled, but Priya ignored him and got into the car.

The friends were noticeably tired by the time they'd changed into normal clothes and set up mattresses in the basement of Ben's house. It was late—well after one—and Priya was finally coming down from her drunken state. Just to be safe though, Sam volunteered to sleep on the basement's pull-out couch with her. Ben let Rodrick and Shea have the private guest room off of his basement's living area, while the boys set up sleeping bags on the far end of the basement. Shea was honestly ready to just crash, but Rodrick insisted they talk.

"I trust you," Shea insisted, wrapping the warm blankets around her. "Heather's a bitch. That's what they do."

"Are you sure?" Rodrick asked, touching her face. "I just… I know rumors are gonna start flyin' at school. I just don't want you to feel hurt."

She closed her eyes and nuzzled against him. "I'll be okay."

After a moment, Rodrick said, "I was worried you'd hate me."

"No," she said sleepily. "I can't do that. I love you too much."

"Yeah," he kissed the top of her head. "Me too."

They lay together, quietly, soothing each other with the rhythm of their breathing. Rodrick's body was warm; Shea felt safe in his arms. She understood why parents didn't want kids sleeping with their partner, but Shea relished his feeling. She wished the night would stretch on forever.

"I feel so different from the beginning of the year," he said abruptly, his breath warm on the top of her head.

"You are," she said, wrapping her arms tighter around his body.

"I'm not even the same person. When did I become this huge sap?" he blathered. "I mean, Heather fucking Hills kissed me. Last summer I would have killed a man for that."

Shea murmured, "Doubtful."

"Still."

Even though she thought she might fall over from exhausted, she propped herself up on her elbows and pinched his cheeks between her fingers. "Do you hate it?"

"No," he said, his voice muffled. "But it's just weird."

Her tired brain could only think of, "So are you."

He kissed her, which she took as permission to finally fall asleep. As she drifted into nothingness, she knew she couldn't be happier.