Waving her hand around, she smiles. “I’m a stage-five clinger, you’ll never get rid of me now. Plus, I live in a permanent live-sex show, I need you more than you need me.”

Her giggle is enough to make me smile and I settle back into my seat and resolve to not think about Sebastian again tonight. Maybe she’s right, maybe instead of thinking about him and how good the sex was, I need to focus on how amazing it will be with someone else. Perhaps it’s always that good? I mean, people wouldn’t be as obsessed with it as they are if it didn’t make you feel good.

I’m giving him all this credit and more than likely it’s just that sex feels good, orgasms make you feel epic and together we had a lot of them. But I can find someone else to make me feel just as good without the mindfuck that Sebastian brings to the table.

Unlike the last party, there isn’t a parking space conveniently empty and waiting for us, so we abandon the cart at the back of a huge pile of carts and then proceed to make our way through the woods on foot.

Heels and hidden tree roots don’t really mix, but eventually we emerge from the path and into hedonistic chaos. I never went to any high school parties, so I don’t know if this is usual party behavior, but this is nothing like the college parties I’ve seen in films.

The freshmen welcome party had a chilled bonfire vibe, this is nothing like that. Instead of fires with lawn chairs, there’re glass heaters full of dancing flames, dotted between the trees that have been wrapped with LED strips that pulse and flash along with the heady music.

At the last party I refused to drink, so I never really considered where the various drinks the guys were fetching me were coming from, but tonight there’s proper bars set up with bartenders mixing cocktails.

The music is so loud the bass feels like it’s pulsing in my chest and I immediately start to move to the beat. Sammy grabs my hand and tows me over to one of the bars, ordering us Long Island iced teas and two tequila shots each.

“For courage,” she smiles, leaning forward and speaking into my ear to be heard over the noise of the music and crowds of people. Lifting her glass, she throws back the first, then second shot and I follow her lead, swallowing the disgusting liquor and trying to hold back a grimace.

“Tastes awful, but it works,” she says with a wink, dropping a twenty into the bartender’s tip jar and handing me another drink in a tall plastic cup. I take a sip and sigh when it’s sweet and doesn’t burn all the way down to my stomach.

Sammy reaches her hand back and grabs mine, leading us both onto the makeshift dance floor. She immediately starts to dance, so I do the same, sipping at my drink as the pulse of the music drags me under its hypnotic beat.