The bonfire snapped and hissed as someone tossed another log onto it. Sparks burst into the air, swirling upward before disappearing into the dark, and the smell of wood smoke clung to everything—hair, clothes, even the back of Avery's throat.
Jess Hartley's backyard was exactly what every high school party seemed to become eventually.
Music blasted from a portable speaker that sounded like it had survived one too many parties. Someone was laughing so hard they nearly fell out of a lawn chair. A group of juniors had somehow convinced themselves they could dance, even though absolutely none of them could. Plastic cups littered the grass, and every few seconds someone shouted over the music, trying to tell a story no one was really listening to.
Avery almost hadn't come.
She'd spent near
