‘Mate, over here,’ Brendan says to Scott, and motions to a space next to him.

Scott waves Becky over and, grateful, she squeezes in between Scott and Brendan. She is too big for the too-small space – knees overlapping with a boy either side. She wonders if she should sit outside the circle.

‘Hey,’ whispers Scott, looking up at her. ‘You’re flying low.’

Becky glances down and sees the lace of her pants showing in the gape of her jeans zip.

Scott laughs. ‘Don’t worry about it, you wear it well.’

He hands her a bottle of the disco-blue drink as she tugs at her top to try and cover her pants.

‘Let’s do this, bitches,’ shouts a girl with a nose ring, brandishing an empty champagne bottle.

‘Are we seriously still twelve?’ mutters a boy in a vintage Goonies T-shirt.

‘Ground rules?’ asks another girl.

‘Take turns clockwise. Snog wherever it lands.’

‘I’m not getting off with Nick,’ says Goonies boy.

‘You couldn’t handle me,’ replies a boy Becky assumes must be Nick. ‘I’d fucking destroy those thin lips.’

‘I’m only playing to watch Nick and Bento get it on,’ shouts one of their friends. ‘Who needs gay porn?’

‘I do,’ says a beefy guy, putting his hand up, to gales of laughter. Becky laughs too.

‘Come on then,’ says nose ring. ‘Who’s first up?’ When nobody volunteers, she shrugs. ‘Let the bottle decide!’ And with that she spins it.

People track the spinning neck like they are standing round the wheel of a roulette table. When the bottle comes to a standstill its neck points clearly to Mary. Everyone exclaims as she shields her face theatrically with closed and flattened palms.

‘Do it!’ commands nose ring. ‘Give it a proper shove.’

Mary spins her bottle. It slows and points to Brendan.

Mary smiles at Brendan.

‘Kiss, kiss,’ the teenagers in the circle chant.

‘Argh, this is so cringe!’ shouts Bento.

‘You’ll get yours, mate,’ laughs Nick.

Mary’s eyes are glazed with alcohol and nerves and the excitement of everyone’s attention. She crawls on her hands over to Brendan and leans into him. They kiss each other, tentatively at first and then, encouraged by the chants and cries, lunge at each other for a fuller performance.

‘Bloody hell,’ whispers Scott to Becky, with a nervous laugh.

Brendan and Mary confer then stand up, join hands and step out through the circle toward the door, like a married couple heading up the aisle. Mary turns briefly to address Becky: Sorry, she mouths, and then she is gone and Becky knows that she will not see her for the rest of the night.

‘Sorry, what exactly am I signing up for?’ laughs a red-headed girl.

‘Spin it!’ shouts someone. ‘I want to get laid too!’ More laughter.