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Dave frowns. ‘Okay, I’m not called Dave.’ His bald head shines under the bright, multicoloured lights.
‘You’re called Dave!’ I start laughing. ‘Why is that so funny?!’
My voice trails off into more laughter. I double over. I can’t stop. Tears stream down my face. At some point Dave disentangles himself from my grasp, but I barely notice. My stomach hurts and my cheeks ache.
‘Are you alright?’ Chase asks.
I’m still giggling, but I put a hand over my mouth, suddenly horrified. ‘Oh my God, I just laughed at some random dude because of his name. Is that mean?’
‘A little.’ But he’s smiling. ‘I’m gonna nip outside to talk to Dave for a minute. Will you be okay on your own?’
‘I’ll come with you.’
Archer’s garden stretches long and far and gives way to a copse of trees. There’s a patio area, where students linger and chatter and smoke, and there’s also a barbeque section with a pizza oven. Chase makes his way towards a small cabin at the rear of the garden, away from the noise.
‘Do you do that?’ I blurt as we walk.
‘That’s a very unspecified question,’ he says. ‘Do I recycle? Do I curse at nuns? Do I—?’
‘No, I mean, do you sniff drugs?’
Chase glances at me. His expression is unreadable, but he almost looks wary. I think he won’t answer until he says, slowly, ‘I used to.’
I don’t know why I’m relieved. Maybe because I’m under the impression everyone at this party sniffs and it’s refreshing to find someone who doesn’t. Someone on my level. ‘Why did you stop?’
‘The comedowns.’
‘The what?’
‘The day after. When you come down from the high, it can be scary. Your heart beats faster and you can’t eat anything and you feel like you’re dying. Going through that alone…’ He shakes his head.
I wonder if Cassie will regret it tomorrow. If it’ll scare her out of doing it again. I hope it does.
‘Are all drugs the same? Like, do they all have the same comedowns?’
‘Not really.’ We step around two lip-locked girls. ‘MDMA is probably the worst. It’s such a good high, but the comedown is devastating. It makes you feel like you’re depressed, and you want to burst out crying for the smallest things.’
I’m struck with a knife of fear. What if that’s what Archer and Cassie are sniffing? What ifCassiecan’t handle it?
Chase stops and turns to me. He reaches out as if to grab my hand, but he closes his fingers into a fist before shoving it into his hoodie pocket. ‘Frankie,’ he says gently. ‘What is this about?’
‘Archer,’ I say immediately. ‘Is that what he’s doing? MDMF or whatever you call it?’
He suddenly looks solemn. ‘You saw him sniffing?’
‘Is that what he’s doing?’ Like Chase will know.
‘Archer doesn’t do MD. He had a panic attack on it once and hasn’t touched it since. I’m not sure what else he does, but I know he takes a lot of coke, so it’s probably that.’
Okay. It’s not MD, but—
‘Is cocaine bad?’ I ask.
‘All drugs are bad—where are you going?’
‘To flush his drugs down the toilet!’
This time, he does grab my hand. He spins me around to face him. ‘Donotdo that.’
