Like It Never Happened by Emily Adrian

several friends in tow. The women clutched margaritas and peered at us with tight, lipsticked smiles.
    â€œThis is my daughter Rebecca!” Mom was using her tour guide voice, touching the top of my head like I was a prized rosebush. I could already tell she had been drinking. Not that I held it against her—probably my life would have been easier if Mom had been more of a drunk.
    â€œAnd this is her boyfriend, Char-lie!”
    Or maybe not.
    Mom fondled Charlie’s shoulder. Miraculously, he seemed unbothered. “Hello,” said Charlie, shaking the hand of each completely indifferent woman. “It’s nice to meet you all.”
    My mother flashed me a look that said “I told you so,” and also “Aren’t you a little drama queen?” and also “You can thank me later.”
    It was a lot of infuriating things for her to say at once. She attempted to drift away, but I stomped after her, my cheeks blazing.
    â€œAre you kidding?” Panic cracked my voice.
    â€œOh, look at them! Nobody’s even upset!” Mom whispered, before breaking from my grasp to assist Mrs. Almeida with the potato salad.
    And, in fact, my friends did not look upset. Everyone except Liane was convulsing with laughter. Rolling her eyes, she beckoned me over.
    â€œThey already knew,” Charlie explained, sliding his arm around my waist and pulling me close.
    â€œWhat?” I backed away.
    â€œHe spent the last week of summer negotiating his way out of the pact,” Tim said.
    â€œHe owes us,” Liane said. “You both do.”
    I locked eyes with her, desperately trying to make sense of the timeline.
    â€œBut ultimately we couldn’t really blame him,” said Tess. “Camp sounded like torture and besides, you two are perfect for each other.” She winked at me.
    I looked at Charlie in disbelief. Camp was torture? On the last night, he had won an award for being the Counselor Most Dedicated to Fun.
    â€œYou hate me?” he spoke into my ear.
    â€œYou wouldn’t call me.”
    â€œI wanted to kiss you with a free conscience.” He returned his arm to my waist, but he didn’t kiss me.
    â€œWe have something for you.” Liane directed this to Charlie. “Only we have to present it to you privately.”
    â€œYes, privately,” agreed Tess. “And we also need something to toast with.”
    She was swift, darting to the booze table and seizing a bottle of Jack Daniel’s by the neck. “Nobody cares about the whiskey, do they?” Tess asked, climbing the steps to the back door. Stealing a glance at my parents, who were laughing uproariously beneath the plum trees, I led my friends upstairs to my bedroom.
    They sank into a careful arrangement, as if we hung out in my room all the time. The girls sprawled across the bed, Charlie spun circles in my desk chair, and Tim perched on the wide windowsill. I hovered in the door frame, wondering what would happen next.
    What happened was Tess uncorked the whiskey and took a swig straight from the bottle. Coughing and sneezing, she passed it to Liane, who was surprisingly more composed about the whole process. I wondered what would happen if my parents caught us. Presumably there was a rule against drinking hard liquor in my bedroom.
    In the backyard, the party raged. An earnest U2 song replaced Carly Simon. If there was ever a night they wouldn’t notice, this was it. When the bottle came my way I took a drink. Flames licked my chest, but it wasn’t exactly a bad feeling.
    Liane removed a folded sheet of paper from the pocket of her dress. She presented it to Charlie. “I haven’t quite mastered the legalese,” she said. “But I think I got the point across.”
    Charlie hummed to himself as he read over the note. Expressionless, he grabbed a pen off my desk and uncapped it with his teeth. “The deed to Rebecca?” he asked, scrawling something on the