(song: "River" - Bishop)

I stared up at the huge and expensive Nevada home of the Henry family.

     Rich people were not in short supply when you lived in Las Vegas, but our part of town had been more of your average working-class until the high-end developments came up and changed everything.

     I never understood the idea of rich kids having house parties. I felt like a free invitation for people to steal your stuff.

     "Our first Patrick Henry party." Selena squeezed my arm at my side.

     I smiled at her. "Yeah, but for different reasons. You never went because your needy ass boyfriend gets too jealous of you going to parties. My reason is that I just don't like Patrick Henry."

     She nudged my shoulder. "You're the only girl I know who doesn't like Patrick Henry. He even got a handshake and photo-op with the Mayor of Las Vegas for his science project winning first place. He's a good guy."

     "We live in the biggest sin city in the world. Filled with drunks, gamblers, and prostitutes. Guys that nice don't exist, Selena. For instance, let's examine your boyfriend. You keep telling me all the time how nice he is. 'Oh he's so nice, oh he never cheats on me, oh he's always calling me every night'. Jon isn't nice, he's controlling. He never lets you hang out with anyone or have any friends. He doesn't even like any of the same things that you do."

     Selena rolled her eyes. "Right, so it's just better to always date horrible bad boys like you?"

     "With bad guys, I know what to expect. Good guys are a set-up for disappointment, but whatever. Let's just focus on having a good time."

     I pressed the doorbell and then worked to pull down my small dress as much as it would go so I didn't look like the night's entertainment.

     I could hear the music pounding inside. God, it was terrible music, but at least I could dance to it. After a few moments, I heard a voice call out through the door. "I got it!"

     The door swung open to reveal Patrick Henry. He was attractive in that classical kind of way. He looked fit from running track at school, but had the softest easy-going smile.

     "The party is here!" I announced as I posed against Selena's side embarrassing her.

     Patrick looked at the two of us like he'd just seen a ghost. "What are you girls doing here?"

     "We were invited, so here we are," Selena answered.

     "What, your party has too many girls already?" I asked while I peered past his shoulder to look at a few of the party-goers.

     He waved his arms to dismiss the idea.

     "No, no. It's just—I always invite you two and you never actually show up, so I'm a little surprised. It's good, glad you could make it. Come on in. Um, there's a pool in the back, food in the kitchen, dancing, and games in the living room."

     "Wow, that's so helpful, because I couldn't have figured any of that stuff out by just walking inside," I said sarcastically.

     "So, so glad to have the charming Jenn Graham wit at this party too." Now he was the one being sarcastic. He motioned for both of us to enter and so we did.

     It wasn't like the parties Chuck had taken me to. Chuck always took me to red cup parties. The kind that typically took place on dead lawns outside of run-down houses with underage drinking, amateur-looking tattoos, and a haze of cigarette smoke. I didn't really like parties like that, but the people who were at those parties never judged me. They were a gathering of lost causes.

     This party was different. Everyone felt so bright and shiny it made me look like I ended up at a church dance. Some people happily played games on the tv in the den while others danced to pop music. A few party people were diving into the pool clothes-and-all.

     Leave it to Patrick Henry to have a party that managed to be fun and safe at the same time.

     I dug into my purse to dig out Chuck's flask and took a sip. I wasn't going to get through this party sober.

     Selena smacked my hand. "Put that away."

     I snatched the flask out of her grasp. "God, lighten up."

     "I'm not doing this again with you, Jenn. You promised me. Don't make me have to drag you home." Selena demanded.

     She was referring to the multiple times in the past where after I had a fight with Chuck and she'd have to drag me home from somewhere while hazed or drunken out of my mind. I felt guilty about putting her in that position and one day she finally told me that I either get my drinking under control or she would stop being friends with me.

     I knew I needed Selena in my life, way more so than I needed any guy. So, I followed her request—most of the time.

     We went into the massive living room where everyone danced and played with ridiculous noise-makers. The lights were low and colors danced across the walls. The DJ was one of our classmates and one of Patrick's teammates. He had his laptop hooked up to a sound system and was undoubtedly playing all the top 100.

     The music wasn't to our tastes, but it didn't even matter. All that mattered was our feet moved and the rhythm flowed. I tossed my hair and ran my fingers through it, letting the music control my body and how it decided to move. Selena and I stood out among all the brightly colored pants, shoes, and shirts the other students wore. We were black diamonds in an ocean of color.

     Selena laughed as we danced together through several of the loud bubble-gum pop songs. I had fun—until some guy bumped into Selena's back.

     "Hey, watch where you're dancing." I snappily warned the guy.

     The guy—or culprit—turned around and looked apologetic. He was a good-looking guy. He had disheveled hair and that sort of wild style that none of the guys in our school dared to have. He definitely didn't come from around here.

     "Sorry about that," he said with an Irish accent.

     "No problem, it's pretty crowded here anyway." Selena jumped in before I could say anything negative.

     "I really didn't mean to crowd your space, but in a way, I'm glad that I did. I'm Easton." He extended his hand towards either of us that would shake it first.

     Selena reached to shake it. "Selena."

     "Jenn." I tossed in just to be polite.

     "Well nice to meet you both." He wasn't going away though. He tried to extend the conversation with small-talk.

     As he started to ask us if we were "having a good time", I suddenly noticed a key factor. Easton's eyes stared at Selena and her eyes gazed right back at him. I was horrible at chemistry—another reason why college wasn't in the cards for me—but I did know human chemistry. That moment when a boy meets a girl.

     This was their moment.

     "Hey, I need to find the bathroom. I'll be right back, you guys talk." I talked quickly and already pushed my way past people before Selena could protest.

     Even if nothing happened between Selena and Easton, at least she'd become aware that there were more guys out there besides Jon. God, I hoped she'd dump Jon.

     I moved past all the ecstatic party guests and instead looked for a quiet spot outside, across the street. I sat on the sidewalk of the nice neighborhood square and studied both it and myself with a critical eye.

     I really didn't belong there. I looked like I belonged in a cheap bar.

     I dug the flask from my purse. I could drink without judgment now.

     I felt the smooth surface of the flask in my hands and ran my fingers over the words "Chuck + Jenn" engraved on it. It was a birthday present I'd given to Chuck to replace his beat-up old flask. He always made me carry it in my purse since he constantly lost things.

     Drinking was something Chuck had turned me to do. Chuck drank, my father drank, my grandfather drank, and probably my great grandfather before him drank too.

     Clearly, I had issues.

     "You're crying." A voice stated.

     I sniffled and wiped at the mascara that ran down my face, I was mildly surprised by my own tears. I hadn't noticed that I was crying. I glanced up to see Patrick standing on the sidewalk.

     I quickly tried to suck it up and blew off the whole being sad thing. "Yeah well, tonight just sucks."

     Patrick nodded and looked towards his house across the street.

     "Yeah, it does." He agreed.

     "But—" I gestured to his party and all the people at it who were there specifically for him. "—It's your party. Everyone is here for you."

     "Valentina dumped me. She said we shouldn't be so attached when we're going off to college next year." He said it while he stared off in the distance.

     I never really liked Valentina. It's not that she was a terrible person—she became a well-loved humanitarian and volleyball player—but she seemed to think way too highly of herself. She often acted like she was more important than anyone or anything.

     I saluted him with my flask. "Well, I guess we got something in common then. Chuck dumped me."

     Patrick sat down on the sidewalk beside me and reached out his hand. "Can I have some?"

     I smiled a little bit mischievously. "I never took you for a whiskey drinker." I let him have the flask.

     He promptly turned the flask upside down to pour the contents onto the asphalt.

     "Hey!" I protested and reached to stop him and he just kept holding the flask away from my grasp.

     We struggled for a split second before I found myself close to him.

     I looked up at his face looking down towards me. His blue eyes looked so fierce that they caught me by surprise.

     "Shouldn't drink when you're depressed. You're too good for Chuck and you're too good for this." He said before he handed me the empty flask.

     I felt embarrassed—and I wasn't the type who felt embarrassed easily.

     We locked gazes.

     I inhaled deeply and on exhalation, I threw the flask into the bushes. Goodbye, Chuck.

     In the past, whenever Patrick and I passed each other in the hallways, I'd always blown him off. He usually would say a hello or smile at me, but beyond that, nothing. This was the first time I'd actually spent more than a few seconds talking to him. It felt unnervingly natural.

     "How do you know if I'm too good for him? You don't know anything about me." I rebuilt my defenses.

     "I've never seen you be openly mean to anyone, I've seen you just be mean to yourself. Chuck is mean to everyone." Patrick stated.

     "Well, we can't all be saints, some of us have to fill in the job of the sinners." Oh god, was I really trying to defend Chuck here?

     Patrick smiled and it was a really cute smile.

     "What makes you think I'm so saintly?" He asked.

     I rolled my eyes.

     "Oh please, you shook hands with the Mayor. What normal teenager wins a science fair and a popularity contest?"

     He still smiled at me. "One who tries too hard to please his parents and his friends at the same time. That doesn't make me a saint, it just means I care too much about what people think."

     Patrick seemed so real to me all of a sudden. Before, he symbolized this impossibly perfect person, but now he appeared more human than ever. All the guys I'd known or gotten close to were train wrecks, but I thought that was real. Patrick's perfection I'd never been into, but at that moment, with him being so open and vulnerable, I felt an overwhelming pull of attraction.

     Our knees touched together. I could feel his arm beside mine. We were sitting too close for people who never had really spoken to one another. Together we were observers, watching as the rest of the world celebrated without any concerns.

     I dug in my purse to retrieve one of the breath mints I bought from the gas stop earlier. I popped one in my mouth and offered one to him. He accepted it.

     "What? Does my breath smell or something?" He asked while tasting the flavor of winter mint.

     I studied him with a bold feeling that swelled in my chest.

     No strings.

     I wanted just a moment to give in without any feelings involved.

     My voice was low. "No, I just want to make sure you taste good."

     "Why—"

     I had reached up with my small hands and black-painted nails to hold Patrick's face while I pressed a kiss against his mouth. Hastily, I pulled back to stare into his eyes. He watched me, stunned and amazed, but he didn't push me off him.

     "Don't think this means I like you or anything. This is a moment of insanity. This is never going to happen again." I whispered.

     Patrick stared at me bewildered and breathing just as heavily as I was. "Okay."

     I leaned in again to kiss him and this time I could feel his hands reach to steady me. His mouth pressed back against me. He didn't kiss like Chuck. Chuck kissed like someone dying of thirst in a desert—the hard, rough, and sloppy kind of way. Patrick's kisses felt tender and careful.

     After our exchange, we separated from each other completely. We avoided eye contact and I messed with my hair to try and look like I didn't just do exactly what I did.

     I stood to my feet and only once I had a little bit of distance between him and myself I looked down at him. "We were both just lonely. We're way too different for this to be more than just a fun party memory. So, yeah. Let's just go right back to ignoring each other tomorrow. No pressure."

     "Jenn—"

     "Stop. There's nothing left to say. Great party Patrick."

     I had to keep walking because my face felt like it was burning.

     It was just a kiss.

     People kiss every day. I mean, I was convinced that's all it was and nothing more would come of it.

     I had no idea that a kiss would be the catalyst for everything.