I was trying to get a count of how many people there were in the house. There had to be close to a hundred kids. Thank goodness nobody else was going to get inside. Mike and Mo were working the door like a couple of bouncers, letting people out but not letting anybody else in. There were, of course, some people that I knew, and some who went to our school—but most of them were complete strangers. Even worse, some of them were a lot older than me. They were adults—or at least no longer in high school. I sidled around the dance floor. It was still crowded, and the music was still so loud that I could hardly hear myself think. Every seat in the living room was taken, and people were standing around talking, laughing. They did look like they were having a good time. I wished I could have been laughing or dancing or talking instead of worrying, cleaning and hoping that it would all end without anything more happening. There were drinks everywhere. Bottles of beer and little wine coolers, glasses filled with punch or whatever.
