Everything looked too much, as if this was a scene from those slasher B-movies. Someone was going to be murdered in one of the rooms or drowned in the pool. Everyone seemed to be trying so hard
to fulfill their own roles as drunk and wild things. There were loud laughs as a boy crawled his way to the bathroom. Even the couples who had found their own shadowed corners looked like a Greek
tragedy. I wondered what they felt in the morning when they looked around blearily and saw themselves in bed with someone they had been laughing at in school. I wondered if anyone was even really
having fun.
Miguel came toward me and flung an arm around my shoulder.
“The special guest,” he said. “How’d you like the fountain? Genius, isn’t it? Wow, you’re short.”
I wanted to tell him that it looked lik
