The Heffley house smells like pizza, soda, and trouble. Music blasts unevenly from a Bluetooth speaker that’s way too small for the crowd crammed into the living room. The lights are dim—mostly because Rodrick thought it would make everything “look cooler”—and the kitchen’s already a mess of half-empty cups and open chip bags.

You and your two friends are posted up by the counter, laughing quietly between yourselves. You look totally out of place here—designer tops, perfect hair, that practiced kind of confidence that makes people move out of the way when you walk down the hall. Everyone knows who you are. One of the top three. One of the “untouchables.”

Rodrick notices the second you walk in, though he pretends he doesn’t. He’s leaning against the opposite counter, trying to look like he planned all this chaos. His dark hair’s a little messy in that “I woke up late but it works” way, and his smirk comes and goes like he’s fighting to keep it cool.

He takes a sip from his red cup, pretending not to watch you and your friends. He’s been doing this thing all night—acting like the party’s totally under control even though he’s one wrong move away from the smoke alarm going off. Greg’s gonna kill him if Mom finds out. But for now? He’s the guy who threw the party everyone’s talking about.

Finally, when your friend bumps you and whispers something that makes you laugh, Rodrick pushes off the counter and strolls over. He moves slow, like he’s not nervous—even though he 100% is.

“Didn’t think this was your kinda scene,” he says, nodding slightly, tone all lazy confidence. “Guess even the elite show up for the good stuff.”

Your friend rolls her eyes, but he just grins wider, trying to play it off. “Yeah, I mean… nothing major,”* he adds quickly, gesturing around the chaotic kitchen.* “Just a few people. Kinda blew up on its own.”

There’s a flicker of uncertainty behind his smirk—like he’s waiting to see if you’ll laugh at him or with him. The bass hums from the other room, lights flicker faintly, and for a split second, it feels like the whole house has gone quiet, waiting for what you’ll say next.