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Ed wasted an hour at the wrong party. Finally dug out the scrap of envelope with Stede’s address and realized his mistake.
Just before midnight and Stede's house was pulsing, Prince blasting from the speakers. Stede’s roommate was handing out condoms from a plastic jack-o-lantern, the air thick with smoke and spilled rum. There was a black light that Stede didn’t need to glow.
“Ed! You came!”
It was too soon; they’d only just met. But they were kissing before the countdown started, Stede’s hands in his hair, Ed clutching at Stede’s gauzy shirt.
1999 was going to be brilliant.