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“Don’t be such a downer,” he laughs, handing me the flask and extinguishing his smoke in someone’s discarded red cup. “Stay and have fun for once in your life. ”

“I’m not a downer. You’re just a pain in the ass,” I reply, snatching the flask out of his strong hands.

“Hey. I had a very troubled childhood,” he says over-dramatically, laying a hand over his heart and arranging his features into an anguished pout. “I can’t help myself. ”

“Who am I, Officer Krupke?” I ask, laughing despite myself. “Give me a break. ”

It’s no wonder Emerson is so popular, with his wicked sense of humor, his bad boy good looks, and his devil-may-care attitude. He could have his pick of any girl in our school, of that much I am absolutely certain. I’ve been keeping careful tabs on his romantic life for years now, and he definitely doesn’t seem to be the “relationship type”. He’s hanging out with a new girl every weekend, just about. And it seems that this weekend is no exception.

“Hey Emerson,” a breathy voice says from over his shoulder. Two thin, manicured hands slide around his torso from behind, and a beautiful, green-eyed face peeks around his built form.

My heart clenches painfully as I recognize Courtney Haines, a gorgeous redheaded girl in our senior class. She’s our resident thespian, the beautiful star of every single school play, talent show, and choir concert. She’ll probably head to New York after graduation and become some Broadway sensation. But right now, she seems pretty happy in the role of Girl Who Gets to Make Out With Emerson Sawyer Tonight.

I have to admit, I would be too.

Stop that, I chide myself, shaking off my discomfort. You’re not allowed to like him like that anymore.

Your parents are dating. Plus, he thinks of you as an annoying little gnat... when he thinks of you at all. Get a grip, Abby.

“Hey Riley. Hey Abby,” Courtney Haines says, draping Emerson’s arm over her shoulder. “Glad you guys could make it to my little shindig!”

“This is your house?” I exclaim, looking around in wonder. My dad’s place is pretty stately, but her home is truly a den of luxury. It’s more of an estate than anything else. Our area of Connecticut is chock full of gigantic homes, but her family’s puts them all to shame.

“Yep. And would be my room,” she smiles smugly, letting her hand travel down into Emerson’s back pocket. “My parents were nice enough to give me the master suite and everything, their dear hearts. ”

“How nice,” Riley says flatly, stepping up beside me. Riley’s family is distinctly working-class, and the trappings of wealth have never interested her much. She’s never held my family’s financial situation against me, of course. But that’s only because I’m aware of the privilege that comes along with having a family that’s “old money”. She has no patience for the rich kids in our school who seem oblivious to how good they have it. And Courtney is most certainly one of that number.

“Come on babe,” the redheaded girl says to Emerson, “We’re just about to play a little game. You girls should play too!”