I pushed myself up to standing, my mouth furry and dry, to get her a drink. It didn’t occur to me that something more serious was wrong with Georgina. She just needed some water, to get put to bed, and help cleaning up her house the next day. In fact, I was still vaguely jealous she’d been chosen by Dave. I wondered, briefly even, if I should drink more at the next party to appear looser? Maybe then I’d be chosen? Maybe I was too uptight and sent off the wrong vibes, and, if I got wasted, boys would fancy me more? In the hallway I was engulfed in thick smoke and I was temporarily distracted from my mission when I discovered Georgina’s hallway had slightly embossed wallpaper. Totally baked still, I ran my finger over the ridged bits and it felt so nice that ten minutes passed, with me, alone, just stroking a wall. I eventually pulled myself away to go to the desecrated family bathroom. There was no loo roll left, urine stained the floor around the toilet, and someone had stubbed out a cigarette in the enamel of the bath. I turned the tap on and leaned my head into the sink, guzzling down water, getting it down my chin, my neck, making my top wet. When I was finally sated, I stood up and caught my reflection in the mirror. A wave of disgust rolled through me—my ugly face, my stupid hair, my puffy gross body. I opened the mirrored cabinet to escape myself and found a toothbrush mug inside. I threw the brushes to one side, filled the mug with water, and carried it back to Georgina. Just as I came up to her bedroom, there was a roar of macho laughter where the bong smog hung even heavier around the door. And I leaned against the wall and listened to their deep voices over the music.

“Hey hey hey,” a voice I couldn’t place said. “Have you heard this one...it’s not rape, it’s SURPRISE SEX.”

A tsunami of macho cheers blasted around the room, pulsing out of the door. I frowned, took a sip of Georgina’s water, and kept listening.

“How about no means yes, and yes means anal?” That was Mike’s voice, so it got a louder laugh, naturally.

“What do nine out of ten people enjoy? Gang rape.”

“What do you call a fat girl with a rape whistle? Optimistic.”