Music pounded around me as I entered the house a few paces behind the rest of my fellow passengers. Some auto-tuned crap, and I winced. Lindsey and I had never shared the same taste in music. Of course, that made her call me an old lady for liking good old-fashioned rock and roll, but whatever. I told her she was the one with a hearing problem if she actually liked that stuff, but she just laughed it off. Nothing seemed to bother Lindsey too much.
She spotted me from across the living room. “Keeks!” she yelled, strident enough to cut through the quasi-hip hop that was blasting through the house’s built-in Bose speakers, and ran over. I noticed she wasn’t so drunk yet that she didn’t carefully hold on to her cup of beer as she threaded her way through the crowd.
“Hey, Linds,” I said, not
