"See?" Gayeon yelled. "Making memories! You and me! Just like the yearbook!"

At least, that was what I thought she said. It was hard to be sure, as we were in the center of a tightly packed crowd of people dancing and also screaming at each other over the thumping music. All this in the living room of an Blinks house that had apparently been the place to party for everyone at our school for the last year. Gayeon had been saying hello to people all night. SO far, I hadn't recognize a soul.

But here I was, in the early minutes of my first full day as a high school graduate, a warm beer in one hand. Our commencement, held in a opened field of our school, had been long and dull, a fact made even more difficult by the hot humid night. Each time I looked up from my place in the rows of chairs all I could see were people fanning themselves with programs, the movement back and forth almost hypnotic. I felt awake only during the few minutes I was on my feet, walking to the stage and then across it to get my diploma. The crowd had been told not to cheer for individual graduates - a directive totally ignored, so I still heard Wooyoung's voice shouting somewhere in the distance.

This wasn't just the heat hanging over us. There was also that day's school shooting, the details of which I'd done my best to avoid. This was not easy, as my classmates were talking about it as we lined up, and then the principal made mention of it not once but three times during this prepared remarks. I understood the reasons for this. It was the world we were living in, our reality, and as another public high school, we couldn't pretend otherwise. There had been a time, not that many months ago, when I, too, would've been glued to the news on my phone or the TV, sharing with anyone each new detail of breaking news. But then, another had happened. And one more. Now knowing was just too much.

I felt a bump against my back and turned as much as I could, considering the tight space, to see the boy Gayeon had introduced to me earlier - Chanyeol? Chaeyoung? - was back beside me, a fresh beer for each of us in his hands. His friend was behind Gayeon, his arms around her waist as she leaned back into him, smiling as he whispered something in her ear. This was as Out There as I'd ever been and I was trying to be a good sport about it. So when Chanyeol - I was pretty sure it was Chanyeol - held one cup to me, I took it.

"It's punch!" he yelled in my ear. "Key was out!"

I looked down at the drink, a bright blue liquid with specks of something floating in it. "Great," I yelled back. No way was I drinking that. "Thanks."

He nodded, slipping his now free hand around my waist as he started dancing to the music. Tall and thin, with large ears and visible tattoos under his collar bone, he went to another school in the area, and had already stepped on my foot many times than I could count with the heavy boots he was wearing. But he seemed nice, though, and I knew Gayeon was thrilled to see me with another guy other than Wooyoung. Sure enough, as I thought this, she untangled herself long enough to lean forward toward me again.

"Isn't this the best?" she hollered, spilling some of her beer on me. "Bring on college. I am so ready!"

I nodded, smiling at her while at the same time quite aware of Chanyeol's arm tightening around me to pull me back in his direction. I felt myself tense, by reflex, and tried to put a bit more space between us. No luck: he was latched on, and now leaning into my other ear.

"I've never seen you out here before," he said. "What's your story?"

How do you answer to that question? Stories, as a rule, had to be told. Could you really do that while pushed together on a hot dance floor where you couldn't even hear yourself think?

Maybe I was overthinking this. I'd just give him the quickest answer I could. I turned toward him, thinking of my response, but when I opened my mouth to begin, suddenly he was kissing me.

In no way did I see it coming. There was not a lean in, the slow shrinkage of space between us. Just lips, big ones, suddenly engulfing mine. He tasted like beer, and all I could feel was his tongue.

Immediately, I pulled my head away from his, although his hand was still tight on my hip, holding me in place. "Don't," I said, in the loudest voice I'd used all night.

"What?" he smiled at me, sleepily, than ran his other hand down my back. "We're just dancing, baby."

I turned, trying to catch Gayeon's eye, but a group of girls in plastic tiaras, boas around their necks, had wound between us. The music seemed louder, suddenly, and my face was hot as I tried again to pull loose from Chanyeol's grip. I was starting to panic, feeling trapped, as the last girl bumped past me, her feathers tickling my face. It was that same feeling I got sometimes of things being too much, too full, more than I could take. I had a flash of people running from a building, arms over their heads, and my stomach clenched.

Breathe, I told myself, closing my eyes for a second. You're here, you're okay. But the images kept coming, wide shots, narrow ones, helicopter view. And then, suddenly, something different: a boy on the beach in a white shirt, hand reaching out, an instant comfort, safety, home. Even though it hadn't happened in months, I could feel what was about to happen, the panic rising like liquid, filling me up. I pulled away from Chanyeol again, and as he yanked me back, my vision started to blur.

I closed my eyes, saying a familar prayer. Jongsuk, I though. Jongsuk. Then I felt someone standing right in front of me. I blinked, and I found I was face-to-face with Sehun Oh.

"Conga!" he yelled past me at Chanyeol, who just looked at him, confused. The he reached for my hand and without thinking, I grabbed on tight and let him pull me away.