We are pulled aside by another boy-man who starts dancing close and we sing yes.
We are stumbling up the stairs with damp lips on our lips and strong hands on our hips and we open our mouths to theirs and into the beery chasm of their throats we sing yes.
Throughout the house our five bodies trill and we whisper, “let’s go for a drive and we can really party,” and we hum in unison yes yes yes.
And we’re stumbling through a hallway, around bodies and over bodies and leading the warm sweaty hand in ours, when a door opens and a girl comes out. Her eyes are swollen and she looks like she’s going to be sick. She’s wearing her jacket and it’s buttoned all the way up.
We know about buttoned-up jackets and coming out of bedrooms with eyes swollen from crying.
A guy comes out behind her, look
