Chapter 9
The hockey house was already spilling people onto the front lawn when they got there.
Music thumped through the open windows hard enough that Emilia felt it in her ribs from the sidewalk. Strings of cheap lights hung crooked across the porch. Someone had dragged a couch outside and three girls were standing on it, yelling the lyrics to a song that had come out three years ago. The air smelled like beer, weed, and too many bodies in one place.
Ashley hooked her arm through Emilia’s and pulled her forward. “Smile. You look like you’re walking into a funeral.”
“I feel like I’m walking into a funeral.”
“Dramatic.” Ashley squeezed her arm. “You agreed. Remember? Real moves. Not standing in the corner looking like you want to die.”
Emilia’s head still ached faintly if she turned
