Midnight Sun(18)

“Let’s just go,” I suddenly blurt out. “To the other party. What my dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Morgan gives me a look like Have you completely lost your mind? I wince. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Okay, cool,” she says, giving me the hairy eyeball. “Lemme just get my passport, because Zoe Carmichael is Satan and her home is most likely the portal to hell.”

Garver lets out a laugh.

“Shut up, Garver, that wasn’t even a good joke,” she says, trying to act like she doesn’t love that he totally appreciates her humor. “And, Katie, you do realize we’re talking about Zoe Carmichael here? You know, the girl who basically ruined—”

I cut her off before she can say “your life” or utter the words “Vampire Girl.” “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I say quickly.

“Zoe’s harmless,” Charlie assures us both. “She’s like a gnat with a really expensive car.”

Morgan grabs my arm and pulls me up off the swing. “We’ll be back in a second, guys,” she says, and drags me into the house.

I follow, glancing over my shoulder at Charlie as we walk away. He has a totally confused look on his face. I shrug like I don’t know either.

“You do not have to go to Zoe’s just because you think that’s what Charlie wants to do,” she says when we get inside.

“I know that.” I stare down at my feet and shuffle them around a bit. “I kind of just want to see what an actual high school party is like. No offense to Garver. He’s nice. The ice cream was good. But even I think it’s kind of lame here. This party is only slightly more exciting than watching Netflix with my dad.”

Morgan grabs my chin and pierces me with an intense stare. “You’re sure?”

I nod, gripping her hands in mine and taking a deep breath. “I’m sure. Dear Gabby inspired me. I can’t let XP hold me back anymore.”

Morgan sighs and sticks her hands on her hips. “You are so full of shit.”

“I’m not going if you don’t go,” I add.

“You suck, Katie,” she says.

“I’m not trying to,” I tell her. “I can’t help it. I found out I like being normal. Sorry.”

Morgan gives me an exasperated look and walks out onto the porch. I follow her back there.

“So?” Charlie asks when he sees us.

“Still undecided,” Morgan says. “I mean, Garver put out such a nice spread…”

Garver hops to his feet. “Um, Charlie and I discussed it, and we think it’s in all of our best interest to move this thing to another venue.”

“You don’t have to put on a front, Garver,” Morgan tells him. “If you’d rather we stay here, we’re all down. Seriously.”

Garver shakes his head. “No, honestly. Let’s roll.”

Morgan still looks unconvinced.

Charlie starts chanting, “Mor-gan. Mor-gan. Mor-gan.”

Garver and I pick it up a beat later, so now we’re a chorus of encouragement. “MOR-GAN! MOR-GAN! MOR-GAN!”

“Fine,” she finally concedes. “But don’t come crying to me when Zoe condemns you all to an existence of eternal fire and brimstone.”

We all cheer. I throw my arms around her.

“You’re the best friend anyone could ever ask for,” I whisper in her ear.

“I honestly hope you don’t live to regret this,” she whispers back. “But just know I’ll be there even if you do. To throw down with anyone who dares to mess with you—and also to tell you I told you so.”

It’s such a classic Morgan thing to say. I pull back and grin at her. “Got it.”

Garver whistles, and yells to his friends, “Let’s go, boys! We’re mobilizing!”



Before I have any more time to reconsider my impulsive decision, we pull up to a huge waterfront mansion. There’s a shiny white Escalade parked in the driveway. Its license plate reads 2LIT4U. It’s got to be Zoe’s. Clearly, she hasn’t changed a bit. I’m really starting to have second thoughts, but it’s too late to turn back now.

Charlie easily lifts the keg out of Garver’s friend’s trunk and places it on the ground. The guys stare at him like he’s Superman since it took all three of them to get it in the trunk, and they start rolling it awkwardly toward the impressive home, which is buzzing with loud music and even louder people. The closer we get to the front door, the slower they roll until everything’s at a total standstill.

Garver clears his throat nervously. “This may not be a good idea,” he says. “We’ve never even talked to Zoe.”

“I have,” Morgan says. “And you’re not missing anything except a brush with evil.”

“Relax, guys,” Garver’s friend with the bowl cut and bow tie says. “I talked to Zoe just last week.”

“Do you mean when she almost hit you with her SUV and called you a douchebag?” Garver asks, his mouth hanging open like even he can’t believe how clueless his friend is. “That’s not an actual conversation.”

“Yes it is!” Bowl Cut and Bow Tie protests. “I said ‘Sorry’ to her. It was a back-and-forth. We were talking.”