SOPHIE
Jake's house is already packed when we arrive.
Music pulses through the walls, and I can see bodies moving through the windows—dancing, laughing, living their normal teenage lives.
River parks down the street and turns to me. "You ready?"
I'm not. But I nod anyway.
"Remember," he says, squeezing my hand. "You belong here just as much as anyone else."
I want to believe him. I really do.
We walk up to the house together, and the moment we step inside, I'm hit with the smell of cheap beer and too much cologne. The living room is crowded with people I recognize from school—popular kids, athletes, the kind of people who've never noticed me before.
Or worse, the kind who have.
"Want a drink?" River asks, leaning close so I can hear him over the music.
"Sure," I say, even though
