"Patti told me she told you that I lied," she says as soon as she fills her cup with water. She takes a big sip. "So... what are your thoughts?" she asks after swallowing.

How am I supposed to tell this "messed up" girl that I'm angry she lied and that I'm scared, not so deep down that because she is Hermia, she and Thatcher will fall in love over Shakespeare and I'll be left on my own?

I decide to dodge the question entirely. "We can talk about that later. Are you feeling better now that you've had some water?"

She nods, her eyes closed, and her head vaguely moving to the beat. "Maybe some food."

I move around the kitchen island to grab one of the paper plates and a slice of plain cheese pizza in case her stomach can't handle the pepperoni or she's meat-free like me. It suddenly occurs to me that I don't actually know anything about this girl except that her parents are divorced, she likes theater and Shakespeare specifically, she used to like Thatcher (and may still considering the secrecy), and she apparently gives into peer pressure. All in all, she doesn't sound that much different than me last year, when I was still friends with Gina and doing everything she asked.

I hand her the plate with the pizza on it, which she drops on Sean's white tile floor as soon as she lifts the pizza into her mouth. With her eyes closed again, she stuffs the slice into her mouth in five or six big chomps, and then chews forever on the mouth full of food. I laugh, since she can't see me and won't be hurt by it.

When she finally swallows, she opens her eyes and smiles. "That was really good."

"Good. Feeling a little better?"

"Yeah. Hey so I'm sorry I lied."

"Why did you?"

I've heard when people are drunk they are their most honest selves. Maybe this is my opportunity to see if I can trust her around my boyfriend.

She shrugs. "I liked your boyfriend. I don't know, he's still cute to me. He's so genuine, you know?"

"Uh huh."

"And like, he's really real. So many guys are jerks and players."

"What about Moth? Didn't Patti tell you they aren't a couple anymore?"

"Yeah, but a girl can't go after her friend's ex. That's, like, against the code."

"So... you won't go after Thatcher then? Because he's very much still my boyfriend."

"Oh my god, Janie, this is what I was afraid of, this is why I didn't tell you. I'm not a snake, I'm not going to try to get your guy."

Her words slur as she says them and her arm falls heavily on my shoulder.

"I'm going to try my hardest not to like him again," she says, looking me straight in the eyes.

Her hardest? That's not quite good enough for me to trust her, but maybe that's just the alcohol talking. Maybe when she's sober, try her hardest translates to I promise it won't happen. I hear people also tend to lose their morals a bit while drunk.

"I'm also going to try my hardest not to puke," she says. "But that may be more challenging. Where is the bathroom again?"

She suddenly looks pale, so I take her hand and pull her toward the bathroom just around the corner, back in the hall where all the bedrooms are. I close the door behind us just in time for Paige to make it to the toilet and vomit all of the pizza she just tried stuffing in her stomach, as well as what I can only assume is all the alcohol she's had.

I run to hold her hair back as she continues to hurl the contents of her day into the toilet. She cries between vomiting, and I do my best to look away and not smell it. If I get a good whiff, my head will be right there beside her, so I tuck my nose into my shirt and look to the ceiling.

"Thanks," she finally says. Her voice is hoarse. The toilet flushes, and though I keep my nose tucked into my shirt, I look back and her and drop her hair.

"You're welcome."

"That was so nasty, I'm so sorry." Her words are less slurred now than before, like she may have actually barfed up her drunkenness.

"It's okay," I lie. She was right: that was so nasty.

But I'm trying to think about how similar she and I are on paper and how much Patti, Moth, and unfortunately even Thatcher like her. I'm trying to remember how much I hated Gina's constant judgment, and I'm trying not to do the same. There are some things I can't help judging, like the drug use happening at this party or the drinking, but there are things I can help judging, like Paige just wanting for us to be cool with one another and lying to Patti to maintain that.

"I don't know why I drank so much. It seems stupid now," she says as she pushes herself up to stand. She runs the water in the sink, cups her hands under the faucet, and does her best to drink some water and wash out her mouth. She spits a few times into the sink.

When forming my response, I ignore several judgy impulses, and finally remember Moth's one critique of Paige: She gives into peer pressure too easily.

"Well... I don't know, I don't drink. Moth, Thatcher, and I are all sober. You don't have to get messed up to hang out with people here. No one has pressured us at all, and we're having a great time."

"Until a few minutes ago," Paige adds.

I shrug. "It's fine. Want to try to sober up some more out there with us? I promise we won't make you drink anything except water. Lots and lots of water."

She smiles. "Yeah, thanks. Sorry again," she says, opening the door.

"Nope, it's fine."

She turns around, blocking the doorway before we head out into the living room where it sounds like the dance party is still very much underway.

"Promise not to tell that I just puked?"

"I promise," I say.

She smiles and turns around before dancing into the main living area where the dance party is definitely still going on.

After a few dances with me cautiously and enviously positioning myself between Paige and Thatcher, Sean stops the music and announces that it's time for something he refers to as "induction" in his basement. The lights come back on, and we follow Sean and Emma, who despite having smoked earlier appears to be completely unchanged from her normal self, downstairs into a space that demonstrates both Sean's parents' money and love for their son.

On one side of the large, finished space is a hang out area equipped with a bar, a TV mounted to the wall, and a huge sectional couch that really outlines the area. On the other side of the couch, and thereby the room, is an area with standing lights like I saw on the A Call from Midnight set, some boom mics propped against the wall, and a large green screen against the wall. This is the Sean side of the room apparently, which he confirms after Moth blurts out a hilariously blunt, "Holy shit dude, is this a mini TV set just for you?"

Sean nods. "Emma and I have a YouTube channel, and this is where we film. Anywho, let's all have a seat on the sofa. We can pull up some of the bar stools too."

"You'll want to be sitting for our spiel, part two," Emma adds.

"The part Permala doesn't see."

"The part no one sees," Emma says in a spooky voice.

The group chuckles, half of us unsure of what's going on, the other half in on the joke.

"Welcome to the induction portion of tonight's party," Sean says.

"Don't worry, there's no hazing involved," Emma reassures us, and the other seniors laugh.

"There isn't. No, instead what we do is we let you know about our awards. These are separate from Permala's grades and casting and everything like that."

"I think she knows they exist, but she doesn't know the deets."

"So don't tell her, Patti."

Patti mimes zipping her lips. Bryson smiles at her, holding his gaze a little longer than normal. Maybe he really is interested in her.

"These awards are given out at the end of every show, so you will all have opportunities to snatch 'em up," Emma says.

"So we will read out what the awards are and the seniors who currently hold them will raise their hand and tell the group what they received as their award."

"Because that's the thing, the last person who received the award doesn't just say who the winner is for this play—"

"—So, note that you can't pick yourself again—"

"—right, they'll have to also gift you with some momento to show you've won."

"It's memento, but you get it."

"Right, so the first award is Biggest Laugh or Cry if it's a drama. For this play, obviously we are going for biggest laugh."

A senior I don't know—a heavier guy named Archie—raises his hand and tells us that he was given a stuff laughing emoji pillow.

I bet Archie will give it to Moth, since his part is meant to be the funniest.

"Next is Best Onstage Charisma."

"This is given to at least two people," Sean clarifies.

Crap, I think. I really hope Paige and Thatcher don't get this one. That would be a gut punch.

Two girls raise their hands. Apparently the last play was a comedy about friendship, and these two girls were gifted friendship bracelets in honor of their roles.

"Most Likely to Win an Oscar," Emma announces.

Bryson, actually, raises his hand. "I was given a chocolate Oscar bar, which I meant to eat more slowly than I did."

The seniors chuckle and Patti lets out a laugh that sounds so forced and flirty, it makes me laugh. Thatcher touches his lips to hold in his response.

"We can't forget our backstage crew, so Best Hustle."

Another senior boy raises his hand, and he was given a medal like marathon runners win.

"Last, but not least, Most Together for those of us who step up as stage managers," Sean says.

"Which always happens to be me when I'm backstage, but I'm super looking forward to finding a worthy predecessor," a thin girl says from the other end of the couch. "I got an organizer from you, Kara, which was actually super thoughtful."

"No problem," a girl closer to me says, touching her hand to her heart. She's been cast in the play this time. She's playing one of the actors, like Moth.

"That is not all we have for you with induction," Sean says.

"Oh, no, there is more," Emma continues. "Each of us seniors have selected one of you juniors to be our mentee. We are going to be like a buddy to you through this year, showing you the ropes and helping you with whatever you may need."

"Right, if you need help running lines or figuring out how to work the curtains or the stage manager table...."

"Basically whatever, we've got you covered."

Sean and Emma both take a deep breath and look at one another. They smile.

"Will our fellow seniors please stand to join us?" Sean asks.

The basement is suddenly lopsided as half of the group stands before us. Sean and Emma begin reading off the names of juniors and their senior mentors, and excitement fills the room. I can tell how much this means to the seniors, so it means a lot to me too. When I glance around to the other juniors, I can tell we are all excited about it too, by our smiles, our wide eyes, our bodies positioned on the edge of our seats.

Patti is going to have the same mentor as Layla, the girl who won Most Together, Amber, since Patti is leaving soon and Amber "can handle the extra load."

As I predicted, Moth's mentor will be Archie, and when it's announced, Moth leaps off the couch to engulf Archie in a hug.

Paige's mentor is the girl Kara, who had won Most Together before Amber, and it seems a little perfect that the former most together is mentoring the current least together.

Thatcher's mentor is Sean, and they both seem really excited about this, even though Thatcher doesn't jump into Sean's arms, like Moth did to Archie. Instead, he leans up to do a little handshake with Sean over their coffee table.

Finally, as the last junior without a mentor, there can only be one person for the job: Emma. I'd be much more excited if I hadn't seen her smoking earlier, but if Moth taught me anything last year it's not to judge a book by its cover. I liked Emma before tonight, so I shouldn't judge her choices. She's still the same girl, right?

We all sort of break off to chat with our mentors, and Emma goes into the standard small talk sort of stuff.

Are you excited? What do you think of your part? Did you have fun tonight?

Yes. It's cool. Yes.

Then the party begins to wind down for most, although a select few seem to be ramping it up, including Sean now that the bulk of his hosting duties have been completed.

Paige and Patti still seem a little tipsy to go home, but both are sort of dozing off on the couch downstairs. Emma leans closer to me after we've gone through all the standard questions.

"Do you think they're okay to go home tonight?"

I shrug. "I honestly don't know."

Emma looks back at them, smooths the still remaining chapstick between her lips, and turns back to me. "Do you three want to sleep over? My parents don't really ask questions, and I think theirs might. It would be much easier to help two hot messes if I had another sober buddy."

She's sober??

"Didn't you smoke earlier, though? Aren't you high? I can't drive."

She laughs to herself and shakes her head. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I don't want to be pulled over."

She nods. "I'm sure. If you want, Thatcher can drive you guys over to my place. I don't want you to feel unsafe around your new mentor."

"Yeah, that would be better. I just have to check it with my mom."

"Sure, I'll tell the girls to text their parents too, and then we can get out of here and get these girls out of trouble."

I text my mom, but she wants to FaceTime to make sure it's really me and that I'm really sober. I guess she knows the sort of tricks Emma is trying to use on Paige's and Patti's parents.

I quickly run the plan by Thatcher, who loves any time I can spend getting to know people and making friends, and then I step outside Sean's front door to FaceTime Mom.

It only rings twice before she picks up.

"Let me see your whole face, and then zoom in on your eyes," she greets me. Hello to you too, Mom.

I do as she asks under the porch light.

"Satisfied?" I ask.

"Don't sass me, this is a classic I'm too drunk to go home sort of request."

Hopefully Paige and Patti's families don't know this classic request, I think as I shake my head.

"I didn't drink. There wasn't even any drinking at the party," I say, praying someone doesn't come out at this very moment with their red Solo cup, blabbering something only a drunk person would blabber. No one does, and the moment passes.

Mom takes a deep breath.

"This Emma girl is nice?"

"Yeah, she's actually my mentor this year. She's one of the head helpers from the senior class."

Mom huffs. "Fine. Text me when you're there with the address, and then text me when you wake up. If I don't hear from you by nine, I'm coming over."

"Got it, I will make sure to wake up and text you before nine. I promise. It's just a sleepover. Gina and I had millions of these."

"Okay. Have fun."

"I will. Love you," I say, my cue to her that I'm about to hang up.

"I love you too," she responds.

I smile, wave, and then tap the END button.

Time to have my first sleepover with someone other than Gina