The tension recedes once Ron leaves the room. Aunt Katrina's shock fades. Her demeanor reverts back to business as usual. Not surprisingly, she chooses to side with Ron and Cruz yet again.

My aunt chides with an epic eye roll, "Look at the mess you caused, Athena."

"I'm sorry, Aunt Katrina. I promise this won't happen again."

"You're grounded for a week."

Shit.

I can't be grounded!

Sam's party is tonight, and I need to be there. I already have the quap of weed all individually packaged and ready to go.

I open my mouth to protest, "Wait, no, please—"

She cuts me off and turns to leave, "That's enough from you. I need to go check on Ron and smooth things over."

Before I can get another word out, Aunt Katrina has already scurried off to kiss and make up with her fiancé.

This leaves Cruz and me alone in my bedroom.

I glance at his smashed up laptop on the floor. It looks broken, and I feel bad all over again. Flushing with remorse, I stammer, "I-I'm really sorry, I didn't mean for things to get so out of hand."

Cruz stares at me. His face shows no emotion, and he doesn't say a word.

My cheeks begin to feel hot. "How can I make it up to you?"

Maybe I can chip in for repairs?

In chilling tones, he finally breaks his silence, "You don't owe me anything. Just don't pull this kind of shit again, understand? I warned you already. You don't know anything about me. You especially don't know anything about my dad. Next time, who knows what will set him off? Who knows what he'll do? Stay out of our way. I mean it."

His words stun me. I feel uncomfortable. In twitchy movements, I start to twirl my hair between my fingers. I want to ask him more questions about his dad.

"Hey, does Ron lose his temp—"

But he doesn't let me finish. With a stormy expression, Cruz pushes past me as he exits my room. Clearly, our conversation is over.

Not long after, we head to school, separately, of course, and my classes drag on as they always do for me. While I sit through hour after hour of mind-numbing trig and history and photography and English and chemistry and Spanish, I decide that I'm going to sneak out tonight. I don't care that I'm supposed to be grounded. Sam's party is too big of an opportunity for me to miss. I need the cash.

Around 10 pm, I hear Ron and my aunt head to bed. I start getting ready to go out. I wear my hair down, letting the wavy black strands fall freely down my back. I put on a little makeup and change into a loose white tee and some black jeans. I want to blend into the crowd. I don't want to stand out. I'm attending the party for business, after all, not pleasure.

After the lights go out in the bedroom that Ron and my aunt share, I call an Uber and quietly head out the front door. Once I'm outside, I notice that Cruz's car is missing from the driveway.

Maybe he went on a date or something?

I walk a block away and wait for my ride. When my driver arrives, he eyes me suspiciously, "How old are you?"

"Eighteen," I lie.

I have a fake ID in my wallet, if he asks for it, but the girl in the photo doesn't really look like me. She has dark hair, too, but her skin is a bit lighter than mine, and her eyes are actually blue.

Luckily, the guy is too lazy to check.

"Okay," he grunts, "get in."

Twenty minutes later, he drops me off in Sam's neighborhood.

The familiar sight of a large two-story Spanish Mission style mansion greets me. I've been to quite a few of Sam's parties. The yard out front is a typical Arizonan combo of lush green lawn mixed with some cactus and rocky landscaping. A fleet of BMW's and Audi's and Benz's line the street. Everyone who's anyone at school is here tonight. The music inside is loud as fuck. I can feel the bass drop in my chest as I approach the front door.

The door is unlocked. I slip in unannounced. Inside, the party is raging. Dozens of my classmates are drinking and dancing and acting like fools. I kind of want to join them. Get stupid for once. But I can't. I have to stay sober. I have shit to sell. My grip tightens around my purse. It's full of plastic baggies and weed.

Alison Moore spots me from across the room. She's one of my regulars.

"Athenaaaa!" she shouts, beckoning me over with her hands.

"Comingggg!" I holler over the noisy music and party goers.

I shove my way through the crowd. Once I reach her, Alison tells me that she only wants a dub tonight. I give her the price. Twenty bucks.

"Got cash?" I ask.

"Yep," she says with a nod.

"Meet me in the upstairs study in five, okay?"

Even though most of the kids here know what I'm all about, I still don't like to deal out in the open.

Alison nods again. "Sounds good."

I head up first to set up shop.

When I open the door to the study, I flip on the light switch, and my eyes round out with surprise. I see Brody Carlisle groping a half-naked Chrissa Lawrence on one of the armchairs. This make out sesh looks consensual enough. This isn't what surprises me.

No, what surprises me is—Chrissa has been going steady with the captain of the football team since freshman year.

Brody definitely isn't the captain of the team. He doesn't even play football.

Which means—I totally caught Miss High and Mighty Chrissa Lawrence cheating on her boyfriend!

Brody notices me right away. He curses, "Oh, shit!"

They detangle themselves in a clumsy blur of arms and legs and half-on-half-off clothing.

Chrissa shrieks at me, "You didn't see anything, got it?"

I can't resist pouring salt on her wound, "I hope you'll remember this moment next time you call me a slut, you hypocrite."

"Get the hell out of here, you bitch!"

Snickering, I turn to leave. "With pleasure."

I close the door behind me as I step out of the study. I pull out my burner phone to text Alison a quick update: change of plans. meet me in the upstairs bathroom instead.

On my way to the bathroom, I pass by a tall figure with dark hair and green eyes. I groan inwardly. Just my luck.

It's the spawn.

I frown at him. "What are you doing here?"

Cruz scowls at me. "I could ask you the same thing. Aren't you supposed to be grounded?"

Uh-oh.

He knows I snuck out of the house now. I try to play it cool and laugh it off, "Rules are just suggestions, right?"

But I'm freaking out inside. I pray that he doesn't rat me out to my aunt. He's probably still pissed about his laptop. This would give him the perfect ammo to get back at me.

He scoffs, "Whatever. Get outta my face."

Cruz starts to walk off. I shuffle out of his way. I'm relieved that he doesn't seem to care enough to press me further.

For the next hour or so, I stay out of Cruz's radius, and he stays out of mine. He parties with his friends. I continue to wheel and deal from my purse. Eventually, I get a bit hungry and thirsty. I head back downstairs to hunt down some water and snacks. When I reach the kitchen, I hit jackpot. Bags of chips, boxes of pizza, water bottles, beer bottles, and a large bright blue bowl of punch are scattered all over on the granite countertops.

I also run into Alison again. She looks high as a kite and happy to see me. I've always liked her. Unlike girls like Chrissa, Alison has always been nice to me, never judges me, and pays on time.

"You thirsty, girl?" she asks as I reach for a bottle of water and some chips.

"Yeah."

"You gotta try this punch," she offers a red Solo cup full of punch to me, "it's yummy!"

I glance at the cup with longing. Admittedly, I'm still shaken from my run-in with Ron and Laptopgate. Alcohol would probably help me unwind. Destress. Not to mention, I've sold most of my shit at this point. Might as well let loose a little.

Maybe one sip won't hurt?

I set down my water bottle and take a drink from the red cup. The punch tastes slightly strange—like salt water?—but, Alison's right, it's fucking delicious. The blue liquid goes down real smooth. A little spritzy, a little sweet, with hints of berries and vanilla. I can barely taste the alcohol.

Alison grumbles, "It's getting a little warm in here. Wanna go chill outside?"

"Sure."

I follow her through a large set of sliding glass doors. We find a quiet spot in the backyard. There's no one else here except us. Arizona might be hot as balls in the summer months, but it's pretty great in November. The evening air feels breezy and cool around us. I make small talk with Alison as we down our punch and munch on chips. It's nice. It almost feels like we're friends or something.

Ten minutes go by.

I'm about to take another swig from my cup when I spy, from my peripheral vision, Chrissa and her cronies watching me like she-hawks.

Hmm.

Where did they come from?

I start to feel weird.

Alison looks at me with concern. "Hey, Athena? You okay?"

I set down my drink. Damn, my tolerance sucks tonight. How embarrassing. I paste a smile on my face and assure Alison, "Yeah, yeah, don't worry, I'm fine."

The world begins to sway and wobble.

Not a lot.

Just a little.

Or am I the one swaying and wobbling?

Houston, we have a problem.

"On second thought," I slur drowsily, "maybe I should go back inside... and sit down... for a bit..."