One Small Thing: the gripping new page-turner essential for summer reading 2018!

Okay then.

We climb out of the Jeep and weave our way through the crowd toward the front door. Kylie and Max disappear the moment we enter the house. Ashleigh sticks close to me. “Let’s grab a drink!” she says.

I can barely hear her over the deafening hip-hop song that’s shaking the walls. The house is crammed with bodies, and the air smells like a combination of perfume, body spray, sweat and stale beer. Not exactly my scene, but the bass line is sick and the kids look friendly enough. I half expected to see bare-knuckle brawls and people screwing against the walls, but it’s mostly just dancing and drinking and very loud conversation.

Ash tugs me into a small kitchen with linoleum counters and outdated wallpaper. Half a dozen boys crowd around the open screen door, smoking a joint.

“Harley!” she shrieks happily, and then she lunges forward and throws her arms around one of the guys, who separates himself from the group. “Omigod! When did you get back?”

The tall boy lifts her off her feet and gives her a very sloppy-looking kiss right on the mouth. I think he’s high, because his eyes are almost completely glazed over. I awkwardly lean against the counter and pretend like I belong here. This is what I want, I tell myself. A hard party that would drive my parents insane.

“Really late last night,” he says. “We stopped for dinner in Chicago and then powered through for the rest of the drive. Marcus said he’d rather drive through the night than pay for a motel.”

“You shoulda called me first thing this morning,” Ash whines.

He slings an arm around her shoulders. Is he her boyfriend? She hasn’t introduced us yet, so I have no idea.

“I didn’t even wake up ’til like an hour ago,” Harley says with a laugh. “Otherwise I would’ve called.” His eyes narrow. “You seen Lamar yet?”

“Nope. Don’t plan on it, either.”

“Tonya says she saw him with Kelly at the arcade last night.”

“Goody for Kelly. Can’t wait for Lamar to dump her skanky ass just like Alex did.”

Harley. Marcus. Tonya. Kelly. Lamar. Alex.

Who the heck are all these people? I stand there by the counter, growing more and more uncomfortable as Ashleigh and her maybe boyfriend toss random names back and forth to each other.

I look around the kitchen. Ash and Harley are still talking, arguing almost, about their friends. It doesn’t matter. I didn’t come here to listen to gossip. I’m tired of being passive, of allowing myself to be controlled. For the past three years, I’ve done what I’ve been told, taken the electives recommended, gotten the job that my parents set up for me.

And what’s my reward?

Another four more years added to my sentence. The cell door got slammed shut before I even got a chance to step outside. I glance at the case of beer. I could get drunk, but that’s too easy. I could get high, but that’s too dangerous. I need to do something between drunk and high that would make me feel good and piss my parents off.

A flash of movement catches my attention, and I turn to find a very good-looking guy stopping and leaning in the kitchen doorway. He has the darkest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re incredible. Over the left one, his eyebrow has a gap. It looks like a scar from this distance. Or a bad plucking accident, but he doesn’t look like the type to manscape.

His jaw is covered with dark blond stubble, making him look older than all the other guys here. The boys in the kitchen, Harley included, don’t have any facial hair. And they aren’t nearly as tall as Blue Eyes or as built or as attractive.

Him. That’s what I need. A very bad boy to take me down a very bad path.

A sense of power sweeps through me. This would make my parents angrier than anything. All kids drink, but hooking up with some random stranger? It would drive my proper mother nuts.

Internally, I rub my hands together with glee and start plotting. He’s not making eye contact with me, but he’s not staring at someone else, either—guy or girl. He’s not exactly aloof, but there’s space between him and the others. As if they’re afraid to approach him. He’s got an aura of someone cool and together.

The very things that I’m not.

I glance down at my ripped skinny jeans and skimpy yellow halter top and confirm that my zipper’s zipped and my boobs are sufficiently covered. I’m not the hottest girl here, but he’s alone and so am I.

Besides, if he says no, who cares? I won’t see him again. And the whole point of coming out tonight was to do things that I wouldn’t ever do. To get a taste of real life.

“Who’s your friend?”

I jolt at the sound of Harley’s voice. He’s finally noticed me. “Hey,” I say, tearing my gaze off Blue Eyes to smile at Harley. “I’m Beth.”

“Harley.” He releases Ashleigh and wanders over to hug me. Harley’s a hugger, it seems. “Nice to meet you. Wanna get high?”

“Um, maybe later?” I say coolly, hoping he doesn’t notice the flush on my cheeks and realize I’ve never smoked weed before.

“Yeah, let’s save that for later,” Ash agrees, much to my relief. “Let’s dance.” She moves to my other side and links her arm through mine.

Dance? I sneak a peek at the doorway, only to find that Blue Eyes is gone. Disappointment washes over me. I wonder where he went. Maybe he’s also heading to the dance floor—um, no. He didn’t look like the kind of guy who would “shake his ass” to a techno beat. Way too intense for that. Most guys won’t dance anyway. They think they’re too cool for it.

“Come on,” Ash says, tugging on my arm.

I place Blue Eyes on the shelf. I’ll dance with Ashleigh and then pursue him. I let my new friend drag me into the living room, where the music is louder and the air is hotter. I start sweating, but it’s okay because everyone else is, too. Ash bops her butt against my hip and the two of us laugh and whip our hair around and dance until we’re breathless.

This is what I wanted tonight. To have fun and feel young and not think about the fact that my life is a joke. I don’t have a life. I’m not allowed to go to parties, only to my friends’ houses, and only if their parents are home. Driving around with Scarlett tonight was a huge no-no. Scar’s folks knew it, too—my parents have been embarrassingly vocal to all my friends’ families about the rules. I think Scar’s mom feels sorry for me. When Scar and I were leaving, Mrs. Holmes pretended not to notice and I love her for it.

And I love this. The music and the noise and this room full of strangers who don’t know who I am. Nobody knows about Rachel. Nobody feels sorry for me. Nobody cares.

I toss my hair back and bump hips with Ash again. Then I stumble midstep when I catch another glimpse of Blue Eyes.

It’s fate. We’re supposed to meet tonight.

He walks over to the L-shaped couch and leans down to say something to a stocky boy in a red T-shirt. His hair is longer than I realized, curling under his ears and falling onto his forehead. The dirty-blond color is almost the same shade as my own.

I grab Ash’s arm. “Who is that?”

“What?” she shouts over the beat.

I bring my lips close to her ear. “Who is that?” I repeat, louder. “The guy by the couch.”

She frowns. “Which one?”

I look back and tamp down a groan. He’s gone again! What the hell. This guy appears and disappears like a ninja. This time, I’m not letting him get away.

“I have to pee,” I tell Ashleigh.

She nods and turns to dance with someone else. I make my way out of the crowd. Blue Eyes is back, leaning against the kitchen doorway.

I take a deep breath and force myself forward. I’ve never, ever hit on a guy before. This is going to be disastrous.

I spy a row of shot glasses on a table. I grab one and throw it back. The foul liquid burns on the way down. I slap a hand up to my mouth to cover a cough. Over my fingers, I meet Blue Eyes’s gaze.

With courage I didn’t know I had, I pick up two more shot glasses and carry them over.

“You look like you need a drink,” I say, offering him one.