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  “In the kitchen.” Lai-wan suddenly froze, cocking her head as if she were deep in thought. “Oh my God, I love this song!” she cried, her voice about two octaves higher than usual. She let out a shrill “whoo,” flung her arms in the air, and headed into the living room, dancing all the way.

  About ten other people replied with “whoo”s of their own, and everyone began grinding right in the middle of Kaz’s tasteful beige carpet.

  Shay watched with a sinking heart.

  “What’s with the sad face?” Chris Briglia asked, appearing at Shay’s side.

  Her stomach immediately exploded into butterflies, but she managed not to stammer when she spoke. “I thought parties were supposed to be fun, but somehow Lai-wan’s IQ seems to have dropped fifty points. And I can’t dance. Maybe I shouldn’t have come after all.” So much for her resolve to live like Gabriel.

  Chris burst out laughing. “You just haven’t had enough to drink. Nobody can dance when they’re sober.”

  “Most of them can’t dance even when they’re drunk,” she said, peering at the crowd in the living room.

  He laughed again, and Shay felt her cheeks heat up. She’d never really flirted before—why bother, when she’d probably end up fainting from the stress of it? But Chris seemed happy to see her, and his eyes were now wandering up and down her legs and checking out her butt. Shay felt a burst of giddiness. Since the new transfusions, her skin had looked better, less sallow. Her lips and cheeks had more color, and her blue eyes actually looked clear instead of tired and bloodshot. She’d wondered if it was just her imagination, but maybe not.

  “You look different,” Chris said.

  “Is that good?”

  “Definitely.” He nodded toward the kitchen. “You want to get drunk and dance?”

  “I do,” she said. “I really do.”

  “Wait … can you?” he asked, his smile faltering. “I mean …”

  “You know what? I’ve never been drunk before. I have no idea what will happen,” Shay told him.

  She could see by his expression that he was back in Shay-is-a-delicate-flower-who-must-not-be-touched mode. Damn it. She wanted more flirting. “So then you shouldn’t drink,” he said.

  “Probably not.” She winked as she started toward the kitchen, trying to remind him that she was the girl whose ass he liked. “But I’m going to.”

  She didn’t look over her shoulder to see if he was following her, even though she wanted to. Olivia always said you never check on what a guy is doing because it makes them feel too important. And Olivia had been dating since eighth grade, so she must know.

  Still, when she got to the kitchen and Chris wasn’t with her, Shay felt a pang of disappointment. But the small crowd of people gathered around the center island all smiled. Jacey Hadel moved to make room for Shay near the birthday boy.

  “You made it!” Kaz cried, his face lighting up when he saw her. “Olivia went out for more chips and stuff.”

  “That’s okay, I can survive without her. Happy birthday,” Shay said, standing on tiptoe to hug him. “Sorry I didn’t bring any vodka; there was a full maternal taxi service.”

  “No worries, I took your watermelon idea. They had to sit overnight anyway.” Kaz gestured to a huge bowl of melon chunks. “That’s the second one. People started early.”

  “I know, I smelled them,” Shay joked. She picked up a hunk of watermelon and popped it into her mouth. It tasted like cold medicine.

  “Are you allowed to do that?” Jacey asked.

  “Sure. Fruit is good for me,” Shay said.

  “But it’s eighty proof,” Anthony Ativa put in, frowning. “The vodka transfers to the watermelon—”

  “Shay’s not an idiot, Ativa,” Kaz cut him off. “She was kidding.”

  Anthony’s mouth opened and closed, like a fish. Shay laughed. “I have a disease, not an impaired sense of humor. I do know how to make a joke.”

  “Just don’t let Olivia see you,” Kaz told her. “She’d take the watermelon away to punish us all for letting you drink.”

  Shay rolled her eyes. “She’s as bad as my mother.”

  “Worse than my mother,” Kaz said. “My mom has retreated upstairs and locked her door. Says she’s not coming down unless someone calls the cops.”

  Shay grabbed another piece of watermelon. “I can’t even imagine that. My mom comes from the Bizarro World of yours. I wouldn’t be surprised to find her hiding in the bushes outside.”

  Kaz laughed. “It’s just ’cause you’re sick.”

  “Doesn’t make it any less annoying.” Shay never talked this honestly with Olivia. Liv came from the Mom-and-Martin school of pretending that Shay’s illness didn’t define her, but still assuming that she had no personality beyond her illness. Kaz totally knew that Shay’s illness did define her—and he never pretended that it didn’t suck. “You know, you’re my favorite one of all Olivia’s boyfriends,” she told him.

  Kaz choked on the Coke he was downing.

  “Sorry, guess I shouldn’t be so blunt.” Shay giggled. The vodka was kicking in, she could tell. Her skin felt warm, and even the amazing healthy blood pumping through her veins seemed heated.

  “I’m the only boyfriend who matters,” Kaz said.

  “Well, you’ve been around longer than the others,” Shay said. “Maybe she’ll keep you.”

  “At least until college. All bets are off then.” Kaz looked a little sad as he said it.

  “Don’t think about that; it’s almost a year away,” Shay told him. “You’ll be happier if you live for today.”

  “Deep.” Kaz grabbed a watermelon chunk and tossed it through the air to Anthony, who managed to catch it in his mouth, knocking over a bowl of pretzels in the process.

  “It’s not deep,” Shay said. “I just never think that far in the future.”

  Kaz looked at her, his dark eyes sad. “But you seem better now. I mean, look at you!”

  “I know, I look so hot,” Shay said, giggling again.

  “Yeah, you do.” Kaz held up his hand for a high five, and she slapped it without even noticing the effort.

  “Last two pieces.” Shay nodded toward the bowl.

  Kaz grabbed them both in his big hand, then handed one to Shay. “Drinking with Shay on my birthday—the start of a good year,” he said, holding his dripping piece of melon up in a toast.

  “Technically it’s eating, but cheers,” Shay said, touching her piece to his. They both shoved the watermelon into their mouths and laughed.

  “Okay, now it’s up to everyone else,” Kaz said. “Lai-wan has a bottle of rum to spike the Cokes.”

  “And Briglia has a flask of vodka in his jacket,” Jacey put in.

  “I’m getting some of that,” Shay said. “I heard you should never mix alcohols.” She also wanted another excuse to talk to Chris, but she didn’t mention that part.

  There was more whoo-ing in the living room when she went back in—apparently dancing was no fun without it. Everybody was laughing, though, and the dancing looked better than it had before. Shay spotted Chris Briglia near the bay window, moving his shoulders but not his feet.

  “What’s that move?” she asked, walking right up to him.

  His cheeks reddened.

  “Or are you just not committed to dancing?” Shay guessed.

  “I told you, nobody sober can dance. I guess I’m not drunk enough yet.”

  “I heard you had vodka in your pocket,” Shay said. “So you have no excuse.”

  Chris shrugged. He pulled out a silver flask and took a swig. Shay grabbed it before he could stick it back in his jacket.

  “Whoa,” Chris said as she put it to her lips.

  Shay gulped down as much vodka as she could fit in her mouth and tried desperately not to cough. It burned like fire going down her throat. Chris grabbed the flask back and stared at her, his brow furrowed.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” she sputtered as soon as she could talk.

  “If you pass out,
I’ll get blamed,” he said. “So, yeah, I’m worried.”

  “Wow. You are not the badass I thought you were,” Shay teased, and then she clapped her hand over her mouth. She’d expected the vague dizzy feeling of being drunk, but she hadn’t really expected it to make her say whatever came into her head.

  “I’m badass,” Chris muttered, insulted. “I’m just not the jerk who gets the Sick Girl wasted.”

  The Sick Girl. The words echoed through Shay’s mind. The Sick Girl. Not the hot girl, or the fun girl, or the interesting girl. Just the sick one, even with these tight jeans, even with this incredible strength pulsing through her veins.

  Were all boys like this? Shay had about as much experience in the romance arena as your average six-year-old. And it had always been just her and Mom, not even a brother to maybe tell her how the male brain worked.

  If her real dad had stuck around, would he have been able to give her advice on how to deal with guys—stupid, chickenshit guys? Martin certainly couldn’t give advice on social situations, and her mother didn’t even believe Shay should have a social life.

  Not worth thinking about Mr. Hit-and-Run, Shay told herself. Every time she mentioned her father, her mom either looked like she was about to cry or about to explode. So he probably wouldn’t have been too great with the advice anyway. Maybe she could just do what he did, and get the hell out of the situation.

  Shay shrugged, going for casual. She refused to let Chris see that his words had stung. “Okay. The Sick Girl will find someone else to get wasted with,” Shay said. “Shouldn’t be too hard. Like you said, I’m looking different tonight—in a good kind of way.”

  “Shay …” he began, but she didn’t stay to listen. She turned her back on him and waded into the knot of dancers in the middle of the room.

  Shay threw her arms in the air and let out a “whoo” because why not? Lai-wan and two of the other girls responded enthusiastically, and everyone kicked their dancing up a notch. Shay shook her hips as fast as she could, mimicking the others. She’d never danced before. She never had the energy. For a fleeting second, she wondered if she looked stupid, but the warm happiness of the alcohol overpowered any doubt. Moving her hips felt sexy, not dumb. The music seeped through her body, and her shoulders seemed to sway on their own. Shay closed her eyes and let herself go.

  Her locket slipped free of her shirt, and for once she didn’t immediately tuck it back in. Her mom wasn’t around to be freaked at the reminder of Shay’s dad, and the locket was really pretty—silver, with tiny diamonds circling it, and a pair of birds etched in the middle, both a sun and a moon behind them.

  “I’m so psyched you’re here,” Jacey’s voice broke into her reverie. “You never get to have any fun.”

  “Thank you!” Shay opened her eyes and impulsively threw her arm around Jacey. “Everyone else is so down on me.”

  “Well, Kaz is glad you’re here.” Jacey grabbed Shay’s hands and they danced together for a few seconds.

  “Kaz is always cool,” Shay agreed. “But I guarantee the instant Olivia gets back, she’s gonna throw a fit.”

  Jacey giggled.

  “Olivia was more worried about you yesterday than Ms. Mead,” Lai-wan put in. “But I thought you guys were best friends. Didn’t you tell her you were coming?”

  “Like a hundred times,” Shay said. “She didn’t believe me.”

  “Chris Briglia is fixated on your butt,” Jacey murmured, moving closer to Shay. She nodded toward Chris, still pseudo-dancing by the window. “He’s, like, mesmerized.”

  “He can kiss my butt,” Shay said. “I’m over him.”

  Lai-wan and Jacey dissolved into laughter, and Shay shook her ass a little harder just for Chris’s benefit.

  “Seriously, he was like a pruny old schoolmarm when I said I was going to drink,” Shay went on. “As if I shouldn’t even be allowed to do what I want.”

  “Lame,” Lai-wan commented. “It’s your life.”

  “It is now.” Shay put her arms in the air and closed her eyes again, letting the music and the good blood and the vodka mingle into a delicious hot vibration that buzzed through her with every beat of her heart.

  “Shay Stadium!” Kaz was nearby now, dancing. She wasn’t sure when he’d gotten there. Shay glanced around the room, and it seemed as if someone had turned down the lights. More people crowded the floor, everyone swaying together like a single organism.

  “Are parties always like this?” she asked Kaz.

  “No, mine are better than everyone else’s,” he said.

  Shay rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

  “Makeout music,” somebody yelled, and “What About Now” started playing, getting a mix of cheers and groans from the crowd.

  Lai-wan and Jacey kept dancing as if the music hadn’t even changed. Some people went to get food, some did exaggerated jokey slow dances, and others came rushing over to stand there clutching each other and swaying. Shay frowned.

  “Slow dance,” Kaz told her. “Just like the regular dance, only … slower. …” He spoke in a distorted voice, like he was in slow motion, and Shay laughed. Kaz grabbed her around the waist and positioned her arms around his neck. “Like this,” he said.

  “That is completely uncomfortable,” Shay told him. Kaz was so tall that even with high heels, she couldn’t reach his shoulders without stretching.

  “Sorry.” He took her hands and moved them down until she was sort of clutching his biceps. “You can do it this way too.”

  “And this is supposed to be sexy?” Shay laughed. “It feels more like I’m hanging on in case I’m about to fall down drunk.”

  “That’s one reason,” Kaz agreed. “Although if I’m the one who falls, I’m taking you down with me.”

  Shay giggled. “Well, that sucks,” she said. “All this time I thought slow dancing was romantic. I was hoping I’d get to experience that, but instead you’ve taken the magic out of it.”

  “Oh, sorry, let me fix that.” Kaz tightened his arms around her waist, pressing Shay’s breasts against his broad chest. He looked down at her, the teasing smile gone from his face. “It’s all about the attitude,” he murmured.

  Shay nodded, surprised. He was right, the whole mood had changed instantly. Suddenly she was aware of the muscles beneath his T-shirt and the movement of his hips against hers. Suddenly her breath was coming faster even though her body was moving slower. She glanced up at Kaz, and his face was closer than she’d ever seen it. He was gorgeous. Shay had always known that on some level, but somehow she had never really registered it before.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Kaz shrugged. “Glad to help. I want you to have fun.”

  “I am.” Shay relaxed and let him guide her body to the music. “I don’t know how long I’ll feel good. I need to do as much as I can before I crash again.”

  “So … drinking and dancing?” he asked.

  “It’s not as exciting as knocking over a bank, I guess,” Shay joked. “But even the most boring things are new to me.”

  “I’ve never knocked over a bank either,” he commented.

  Shay smiled, resting her cheek on his chest. “After my next transfusion we can try that.”

  “Deal,” Kaz said. “Anything else on the agenda for tonight? You’re pretty drunk.”

  “I am.” The room was spinning slowly, along with her and Kaz. It felt fantastic. “And I’m an excellent dancer.”

  “Well, there’s not much more to a party than that,” Kaz said.

  “I was hoping to get hit on,” Shay murmured absently. “I thought guys always hit on drunk girls.”

  “They’re afraid of you,” Kaz said.

  “No kidding. I’ve been crushing on Chris Briglia for a year, and he basically told me to get lost,” Shay said. “I was actually dumb enough to think he might be my first kiss.”

  “You’ve never been kissed?” Kaz sounded appalled.

  “Nope.” Shay felt a blush creeping up her neck to
her ears. Had she really just admitted to liking Chris, out loud?

  But Kaz was focused on the kiss thing. “Never? How is that possible?”

  “Boys think they’ll hurt me,” Shay said. “They don’t see a girl; they see a frail little alien.”

  “I see a girl.” Kaz’s hands drifted down below her waist. “A girl with the most amazing blue eyes—summer-sky eyes. You’re beautiful, especially tonight. I’d kiss you.”

  He was almost touching her butt. Shay’s breath caught in her throat, and she couldn’t concentrate on anything other than his hands. “I’d kiss you, too,” she said.

  Kaz bent down, his breath hot on her face. The room was still spinning slowly around them. Shay leaned into him, parting her lips, slipping her arms around his back. Kaz’s mouth was an inch from hers, and his hands were solidly on her butt. Shay stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his.

  His mouth was warm, his lips soft. She felt a jolt of surprise—somehow she hadn’t expected soft lips. Kaz’s body was tense beneath her fingers, and Shay vaguely knew that she was tense too, waiting for something.

  Then Kaz’s tongue pushed her lips apart, and her heart gave a giant thump. His tongue entwined with hers, and Shay found herself pressing close to him, holding him tight, moving her mouth against his.

  The song ended, and it was like a spell had been broken. Shay and Kaz pulled away from each other. “Uh,” Kaz said, looking a little horrified.

  “Yeah.” Shay felt as horrified as he looked.

  “What the hell?” Olivia’s voice was shrill, more like a screech than a voice.

  She stood five feet away, holding a grocery bag, staring back and forth between them with fury in her eyes. She’d seen the whole thing.

  CHAPTER

  FOUR

  WISHING I COULD SKIP BIO. I’ve avoided Olivia and Kaz all morning. If I could just skip Bonetto’s class, I wouldn’t have to face them until tomorrow. (Yeah, because they’ll both be totally over it in one more day.) It’s bad enough the way everyone else keeps looking at me today—half of them seem horrified and half of them act like I’m some kind of rock star.

  Maybe if I keep writing until the bell rings, they won’t disturb me. Olivia doesn’t even know about this journal—they’ll think I’m doing homework or something. Or I could tell Mr. Bonetto that I don’t feel well and go to the nurse.