“That’s a lifetime at your age,” Gemma exclaims. “How old are you?”

“Thirty,” I say. “And yeah. First love.” This seems like a silly way to describe Luke, but it’s as accurate as anything else I can think to call him. “We got together when we were nineteen and then broke up not long ago.”

“Nineteen! I can’t imagine,” Gemma says.

“This is making me feel very ancient, but please, continue,” says Edward.

“That’s it, really. We tried to be friends.” It feels surprisingly good to talk about Luke with these strangers; they don’t know or even know of him. The narrative is mine. “Which turned out to be a stupid idea.”

Edward nods and raises his glass to mine.

“Oh but that’s terrible!” Gemma says. “How can you not at least be friends with someone you’ve loved? Are you just supposed to cut them off like a gangrenous limb?”

“Yes, Gemma,” Edward says. “And if you can swing it, move to another hemisphere: which brings us here tonight.”

Gemma looks exasperated. “For a time, I suppose some distance is healthy, but not indefinitely! Aren’t we more civilized than that?”

“We’re really not.” Edward smiles. “At least I’m not. I don’t want to see Amelia ever again, thank you very much. Or Rachel for that matter.”

“That’s the ex and her new girlfriend,” Gemma says to us in a stage whisper. “They were all friends once as well. A very sordid business.”

Just then, some friends of Edward’s spot him and come to hug him. They ignore me entirely, and after a few moments of feeling awkward, I slink away. My head is swimming from all the champagne, and I think perhaps I should leave, but Alberto and Santiago intercept me with more shots and pull me back out onto the dance floor.

As midnight approaches, everyone gets drunker and louder and more people arrive. Someone falls in the pool and then several more jump in. I’m worried on Edward’s behalf about what these people might do to his beautiful house.

I’ve had so much champagne that my head feels pleasantly detached from my body. I let myself be carried along with Alberto and Santiago, who are now pawing at me alternately. Good grief! There are dozens of girls at this party, am I really such a novelty? After some mysterious conferring with a few fellow party guests, they head off to find cocaine. I tell them to find me later, not caring much whether or not they do.

I notice that someone has stopped the music and people are moving the furniture, shooing away an amorous couple who’d claimed the couch. Gemma pops back up next to me, her blue eyes shining, her expression bleary.