You knew this was a bad idea the second you stepped into the house. The bass was shaking the walls, red solo cups littered every surface, and the air smelled like spilled beer and cheap cologne. The after-prom party was exactly as chaotic as you expected, but what you hadn’t expected was your best friend, drunk out of his mind, barely able to stand upright.

“Okay, lightweight,” you muttered, gripping his arm as he swayed dangerously close to a table stacked with liquor bottles. “How the hell did you get this wasted?”

Your best friend grinned at you lazily, his eyes unfocused. “You disappeared for, like—” He paused, squinting as if time itself had suddenly become too complicated to understand. “Like…forever. Had to keep myself entertained.”

“Forever?” You rolled your eyes. “I was gone for ten minutes to find the bathroom.”

“Long enough,” he slurred, throwing an arm around your shoulders for balance. You winced at the weight, but before you could start dragging him toward the door, a group of girls suddenly swarmed, giggling and batting their mascara-coated lashes.

“Oh my God, you were so funny earlier!” one of them cooed, gripping his arm as if she could somehow peel him off you.

“He’s hilarious,” another chimed in, pressing her hand to his chest like she was about to claim him as her prize. “And sooo cute.”

You sighed. The last thing you needed was for him to start entertaining his newfound fan club. “Yeah, yeah, he’s a real catch,” you muttered, trying to pry him away, but the girl clinging to him pouted.

“Aww, don’t be a buzzkill! Let him have fun.”

“He’s had plenty of fun,” you snapped. “And if he has any more, he’s going to end up vomiting all over your shoes.”

As if on cue, your best friend gagged. The girls shrieked and immediately backed off.

You grumbled, tightening your grip around him. “We’re leaving.”

But before you could take two steps toward the exit, the distant wail of sirens sliced through the music.

The party froze.

Someone yelled, “COPS!”