Tara: Listen, I’m going to say school’s starting a week early and stop by Amsterdam before going back. It’s the only way I’m getting out of Delhi. You should come join me.

Asher: Damn. I’ve always wanted to go to Amsterdam.

Tara: Hahaha. So bad, it’s good.

Asher: Hm. How expensive is it going to be?

Tara: Not that much. Couple Ks.

Asher: Ugh. I can’t.

Tara: Asherrrr. I don’t want to go alone

Asher: You’ll totally die if you go alone.

Tara: Right. So seeing that we have that ascertained— come with me?

Asher: I don’t have the money, Tara

Tara:

Asher: You know I would if I could. I’m way past my credit limit already

Tara: Can’t you just apply for another card?

Asher: I mean, I guess I could . . .

Tara: And that would give you enough to buy a ticket and stuff, right? We can always figure the rest out!

Asher: You are a horrible influence upon my life.

Tara: Oh come on, you’re a product of America. It’s basically your duty to do this.

Asher: FINE!

Tara: Yessss! I love you ☺

Asher: You’re a manipulative bitch.

Tara: Haha! Well, we only live once. Tick-tock, baby girl—let’s go!

We are here. We arrived at some neon-lit night, all blue waves and black lights. We have lips on our tongues and smoke in our lungs. The music beats pound bass, sex. We soak till we bleed dancing juice and drop to Tiësto and the Swedish House Mafia. We dance with our feet in the air, and nails, orange and pink and purple, trace lines on necks and burrow tighter in hair. When the morning comes, we fall into our darkened holes and sleep till it’s time to repeat.

For tonight, they are my best friends, these girls and boys I’ll never know. I’ll hold his hand across the crowded bar and help her unzip her red bodysuit outside the smoky stalls in the restroom. I’ll try not to look down the long length of her legs and hold myself back from brushing against the naked stretch of skin cut out of her backless dress. He’ll guide me through the jostling crowd and right now, he is, she is, they are my best friends in the whole world.

I used to watch these people from an untouchable distance. These boys who look like the gods of my childhood, and the girls who drove them to drink and song by wearing their skirts too short and their hair too lovely.