Steph introduced me to the people she and Lisa had been talking to. She introduced to me to more of their friends who drifted into the yard for a cigarette or a beer, but their names were swallowed by the noise of music and increasingly loud conversations. They probably all thought I was queer, and when I realized this I felt a thrill, as if a mask I’d put on had suddenly become my real face.

After a while Steph noticed that I was peeling the label off my beer instead of drinking it, and when I admitted I didn’t really like it, she took it away and reappeared a few minutes later with a cup of punch and Mel and Roxy in tow. The yard was growing more crowded now, and people were shouting over the music, and I realized Steph was drinking my beer.

Talia came out and joined us, and Mel asked her about her work. Talia was a student at the Art Institute, and she lived in the flat upstairs. “I’m painting everyone I know,” she yelled at Mel. “You should sit for me!”

I was aware at all times that I was only a few feet away from Steph. I saw her hand on my beer, her mouth at the bottle’s small curved lip. The punch was so strong, but it went down like candy. I finished my first cup.

Lisa was tugging at Steph’s hand, pulling her toward the steps to go back inside. She turned back toward us and I could read her lips in the Christmas lights hanging above: Let’s dance. Janelle Monae was on, and we all followed Lisa back into the house and crowded into the living room, where the lights had been turned down low and the furniture was pushed against the walls. The music was so loud it muffled all my thoughts. Rihanna, Nicki Minaj, their voices demanding. Mel pulled me into the middle of the floor, and we were dancing together. Roxy joined us, laughing at the cheesy moves Mel was making. Roxy’s hair smelled like apples, and as we danced together, I felt like she’d tell me what I should do if I asked, but I couldn’t put my question into words.