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boys.”
    “Enger was so pissed at me. It was his favorite book. He said I had no right to disparage great literature. Then he made me memorize the first ten pages of The Catcher in the Rye and recite it to the class. I got in trouble again for adding a little speech to the end, saying how much I despise whiny Holden Caulfield. That set Enger off again. I couldn’t wait for that school year to end. All I wanted to do was put on a skimpy outfit and head to the Potato Mash to scope out cute guys.”
    Lauren giggles. “I can’t believe we raced out to that place every night to meet guys.”
    “Nothing says sexy desperation like inappropriately dressed teenage girls at a roadside food stand with giant paper cones of French fries. Gah, we have to go to this party just to see some of the old gang.”
     
    Leo decides to meet some friends at a local biker bar, The Rack, where the pool games have the celebrity status of The Voice . Clean-cut Leo looks out of place with the hairy, tattooed clientele, but he’s earned a lot of respect for his skills in billiards and a spot on the hotshot roster posted on the wall. Honestly, when Leo wears his wire-rimmed glasses, sometimes it’s like watching Harry Potter go up against the Sons of Anarchy . As long as he doesn’t come home with a painful wedgie or a broken leg, Lauren lets him put money down on his games.
    We arrive at Kimberly’s house a little after eight to find people I don’t recognize are already spilling out of the house onto the front lawn.
    “Lauren! Imogene!” someone screams from the crowded living room as we walk through the front door. Yadi bursts through the people and sandwiches us into a hug. Her black hair has been styled into a pixie cut, showing off her long neck and strong features, dramatic cat eyes with heavy eyeliner, and a wide smile with bright red lipstick.
    “You look so different,” I say, remembering the girl from high school who had hair down to her butt and didn’t wear a stitch of makeup.
    “When I moved to Chicago, I decided to reinvent myself. I decided to be braver and put myself out there the way I always dreamed of doing in high school but was too afraid. I finally grew out of my awkward stage.”
    “It suits you,” Lauren adds.
    “You look more sophisticated,” I nod. “Exotic and pretty.”
    “Thanks. You two look great, too. I heard you have a serious boyfriend, Lauren.”
    “He lives with us,” I explain. “I’m going to have to find a new home soon.”
    “His name is Leo and he’s wonderful, and Imogene does not have to move.” Lauren frowns at me.
    “So you’re working with Kimberly?” I ask, scanning the crowded room for her.
    “Yeah. When I lost my PR job in Chicago, I couldn’t afford to live there, so Kimberly gave me a decent administrative job. I like it and the people are so much nicer than the cutthroat PR world. The paycheck is seventy percent smaller, but it’s something. Kimberly was already renting this house, so she doesn’t charge me much.”
    “What are the male prospects here?” I ask bluntly.
    Yadi sighs. “We’re a little low on nice hotties. There are three groups of guys here from what I can figure. There’s group one, the immature idiots who wish they were still in high school because they don’t want to grow up. Avoid them. Group two is the married guys who are out, pretending they are still single and trying to escape from wives or babies or both. Avoid them. Then there’s the third group. They are the nice guys who can actually carry on conversations. They’re scattered around here somewhere and about as hard to find as a gold-plated toilet. I have to go stock more wine and beer in the kitchen if you’d like to get a drink.”
    “I’ll help you,” Lauren offers and gives me a pointed look.
    “Not me. I’m going to check out the guys.”
    I regret saying that the minute I see Brian Torrance telling some poor, unsuspecting woman a joke about pigs that ends with him asking