‘Is this a reality-TV thing? Because I don’t watch reality TV.’
‘Right, you and I have a movie night coming up. My sisters loved that movie! They made me watch it with them and used me to practice that big dance move in the lounge.’
‘I’m fine with the corner,’ I said, standing up, since I had no idea what he was talking about. I let Andrew take my hand and lead me there. On the way he twirled me around and I laughed.
‘I’m a terrible dancer,’ I said. ‘I only ever dance when no one is looking.’
‘Well, pretend that no one is looking, then.’ He pushed me away and pulled me close again, repeating that motion a few times as we both laughed. A feeling rose up inside me. This euphoric, happy, giddy feeling. The feeling was colossal and filled every single part of me as we twirled and moved to the music. As the music got faster and louder, so too did the euphoric feeling. It grew so tremendous that I was sure it was going to burst out of me. A discomfort throbbed in my chest and suddenly it was harder to breathe. Andrew stopped dancing and pulled me towards him.
‘You okay?’ he whispered in my ear. His breath was cool against my hot skin.
‘I’m . . . okay.’ It was a lie, but I nodded. His face was so close to mine that my cheek slowly dragged against his. His face felt rough and stubbly and prickled against the corner of my lips.
‘You sure?’ he asked. This was the closest we’d ever been to each other and, before I knew what I was doing, my hand came up and squeezed his elbow.
‘I just need to . . .’ I started the sentence, but it was impossible to finish when his arm wrapped around my waist. The euphoric feeling was now making me spin, making the dance floor wavy and uneven. The music got louder, his arm got tighter and the feel of his cheek against mine had me at some kind of boiling point. I was afraid I was about to explode.
‘Need to what?’ he whispered against my ear, and my skin pebbled. A wave of static swept across my body from head to toe. My hairs stood on end, my scalp tingled and a feeling so intense rushed down my spine.
‘Need to . . .’
He pulled me even closer, flattening his chest to mine. The euphoric feeling increased, unrelating waves of double dopamine almost knocking me off my feet. Serotonin synapses firing to life.
‘Toilet!’ I said suddenly, and pushed him away from me. ‘I have to . . .’ I didn’t finish the sentence, instead I turned and walked away, so fast that I stumbled twice, knocking into two different couples as I went.
I was having fun, too much fun. The fun was overwhelming and I needed a moment alone to come down from it before I overdosed on the fun. Sometimes even good feelings were too big to handle. I raced to the bathroom, not the ones that everyone else used but the private ones that we’d used as changing rooms earlier. No one would disturb me there. Once inside, I sat on one of the toilets, closed my eyes and welcomed the sudden silence of the room.
Sometimes it felt as if there was no barrier between me and the outside world. I was porous, the energy of the world rushing straight through my skin and into me. Rushing into my body unfiltered and ready to consume me. Other people’s skin acted like a barrier between their insides and the world around them, but mine did not. Everything penetrated me. In moments like these I needed some silence, some stillness to push back the world around me so I could breathe again. This was one of those moments. I sat on the toilet seat, tapping my feet on the ground in a soothing, rhythmic way, the slow and predictabletap, tap, tapregulating me a little. The bathroom smelled of lilies, a scent that I liked, apart for the fact that lilies were once used to hide the smell of death at a funeral. But other than that, the smell was sweet and pleasant. The lights in the bathroom were much softer than outside, and all of this helped soften the edges of my jagged senses. That is, until the door flew open with a bang and loud laughter shattered the silence.
‘God, I hate this dress. I swear she did it on purpose.’ I recognized the voice immediately: it was Delia.
‘God, we look awful in them,’ Tertia said.
‘At least we didn’t look as awkward as Pippa. Did you see how much she was scratching herself in it?’
‘Sssshhh!’ Delia hissed. ‘Someone might be in here.’
As quietly as possible, I lifted my feet off the floor, in anticipation for their look under the door.
‘No one’s here,’ Tertia insisted. ‘I wish I could take this thing off. I’m not going to get laid in this dress. And I packed condoms – might as well toss them if I’m wearing this thing. Fuck, I can’t believe Pippa is wearing the same dress and she’s going to get laid tonight.’
‘How hot is he?’ Tertia asked.
‘God, so hot.’
‘I mean, I don’t mean to be rude or anything’ – I’ve observed that usually when people start a sentence like that, they are about to be rude – ‘but how did she get him? I’m not saying she’s not hot, she is, but she’s never had a boyfriend before, has she?’
‘I know. I thought she might be gay once.’
‘Seriously, though, I don’t think it will last,’ Tertia said. It felt like someone had just poked a stick into my side.
‘Totally. He seems too nice and normal for her,’ Delia replied. ‘I can’t see them together, you know?’
Another sharp stick in my side.
I had known Delia and Tertia all my life; they’d lived next door to my cousin Bee and whenever we’d gone over, they’d been there. They’d always teased me for being different, for not playing Barbies with them when we were younger, for not wanting to go to parties when we were older. It seemed that no matter what I did, or didn’t do, they had a problem with all of it. They had been part ofthatgroup at school. The group that had teased me for being different.
‘I mean, don’t get me wrong’ – another thing people said before saying something mean – ‘I’ve always liked her,’ Tertia added.
