‘Come on,’ she said, raising her glass with one hand and passing me mine with the other. ‘Let’s go dance.’

I thought about stopping her. But only for a second. Instead, I stood and followed her inside.

I didn’t know how long we danced. We had another drink, and another and another. Too many, too fast. Whenever I looked at Lina, she looked like she was winning and she was winning. She was happy and laughing and she looked like she’d never had a single bad thing happen to her, like she’d never collapsed onto me in tears, told me she couldn’t stand being at home and begged me to get her out, get her away, as far away as possible.

We ended up back at the table, Lina and me and Matt and a few of his friends who looked like accountants, with neat haircuts and rolled-up shirtsleeves and slightly oversized jaws, everyone talking over the top of each other, yelling to be heard. It hurt my ears, gave me a headache.

‘And the kitchen!’ Lina’s voice pulled me back. She was talking about the house. Again. ‘The kitchen. I love the kitchen. Dinner at our place every Sunday. I’ll roast something. Two things! The oven is huge—I can do a turkey and a chicken at once.’

I looked at my glass. Empty. The jug of toxic green liquid was gone too, probably a long time ago.

‘I can’t believe you’re still not smoking, Cait,’ she said, nudging my arm. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

I smiled, awkward.

‘Those things will kill you,’ Matt said, too seriously.

‘Well, something has to.’ I laughed, feeling something strange at the back of my neck, cold. ‘It may as well be something I love.’

‘It stinks too.’

‘Yeah,’ Lina said. ‘I’ve never wanted to say anything, but …’

‘Okay.’ I made a face. ‘Point made. I’ve quit anyway. My lung capacity has increased twelve per cent and I’m already ninety-two per cent less likely to get lung cancer, after only eight weeks!’ I was pulling numbers out of the air.

Lina gave me a smile.

‘Besides,’ I said, ‘you’re one to talk. You’re the one who got me smoking in the first place.’

Matt looked at her. ‘Really?’

‘I’ve told you this.’ Lina rolled her eyes until they settled on me, irritated. ‘I smoked for about ten minutes in high school. It was gross but I knew it would annoy my mum.’

And she smoked every time the two of us got drunk together and he wasn’t around, I thought, but I didn’t say. I just smiled at her.

‘I didn’t even smoke, really,’ she explained. ‘It was disgusting. I just left lighters and empty packets in the pockets of my school bag so she’d find them.’

Matt smiled tightly.