Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

Will faltered a moment and then laughed under his breath.
“Yeah, you’re right. Never mind. Drink responsibly.” And he
pushed the kid back toward the party around the back of the
house.
But Misha pulled out of his hold and whipped back
around, walking toward the road instead. “I’m going home,”
he grumbled. “This is boring.”
“You can’t walk from here, you little shit!” Will argued.
“It’s miles.”
“So leave the party and gimme a ride.”
“Are you nuts?”
The laugh was lost in my throat as I turned around and
started heading for the backyard again.
“That damn kid,” Will said, jogging to catch up to us. “I
don’t know how he can be my blood.”
We walked around the house—the text invite stressing that
no one was allowed inside the home and to come directly
around to the backyard—and stopped just as the sprawling
lawn came into view.
People danced and played drinking games, commotion
going on in every corner as the music blasted and a football
coasted through the air.
I could smell the food laid out on tables as several people
played or talked in the pool. Nearly every chair was occupied,
and some students took up the chaise lounges by the pool
house, steam billowing out of the showers behind the
structure. A light layer of mist also lingered just above the
surface of the water, making the pool look like a hot tub.
“Hand in your phones,” someone called out.
I looked over to see a JV football player—whose name I
didn’t know—sitting at a card table, eyeing us with our names
already on Post-Its, ready to confiscate our shit, so no
evidence of the party leaked online.
“Fuck your mother,” I muttered and looked back to the
party, hearing Kai snort next to me.