the heads of the partygoers, the smell and taste of it making her feel sick to her stomach. Bea clutched her seventh – or was it eighth? – Malibu and Coke so hard her knuckles were white from the effort it took to stop it spilling over the side of the glass. She had to sit down, but all the grimy student-issue sofas were full of people talking animatedly about subjects they knew nothing about. She couldn’t bear the thought of squeezing her way on to a spare arm and having to pretend she wasn’t as drunk as she clearly was. Every last space was taken up by people: people in the middle of the floor swaying to the music, couples entwined against the door frames, their faces lost in one another as though their tongues were alien probes searching for the meaning of life. Like tonight their existence depended on one another.
The bottom stair was free, and Bea sank down on the grubby grey tiles and rested her head against the cool wooden banister. She fought to keep her eyes open, to stop herself falling asleep and humiliating herself by dribbling down her chin, but her eyelids were so heavy she had to blink constantly to stop them closing automatically. If only the room would keep still for a second, if only she could pull herself to her feet and get outside for some fresh air, she was certain she’d feel better, less hemmed in and claustrophobic. But whatever signals her brain was sending to her legs, they seemed determined to ignore them, and she stayed where she was. Her face itched from the weight of the make-up she’d plastered on before heading out to the party with her friends. And where were they anyway? Viv and Ruby? She had a vague memory of Ruby grabbing her arm earlier on, shouting something over the music about did she want to go with them? Was she sure? Would she be okay?
So they’d left then, they must have done. Why had she stayed? Because she’d been having fun, chatting to some guy about using multiple perspectives to break boundaries in art, like one of those students she was now so desperate to avoid. Not for the first time since starting uni, she wished Karen and Eleanor were there with her. They would never have left her behind – Bea could remember nights out at home when Karen had stayed at a club long after it had ceased to be fun for her just to make sure her friends were okay. If we start the night together, we end it together; she could picture her saying it now. But she hadn’t started the night with Karen and Eleanor; she’d started it with her new university friends, people whose loyalty was only to themselves. And now she was alone.
‘You look like you could do with a kebab and your bed.’
For a minute Bea thought it had been herself talking, voicing her inner wishes out loud. But this voice was deeper, male. She forced her eyes open to see Kieran, the guy she’d been talking to when Ruby left, standing in the hallway in front of her. She managed a smile, or at least she thought she had – she no longer felt significantly in control of any part of her body.
‘You must be some kind of mind-reader,’ she slurred. Her voice was thick, and speech felt alien to her. ‘Don’t suppose you could add aspirin to that list, could you, Genie of the Lamp?’
‘Your wish is my command.’ Kieran grinned and offered her an arm. ‘Come on, I promised Rubes I’d get you home safe. I’ve been looking for you for ages – last time I saw you, you were doing shots of 20/20 in the kitchen with Freud.’
Bea grimaced as a picture of the boy known as Freud – owing to his passion for discussing psychology every time he wasn’t alone in a room – wielding a bottle of 20/20 and talking about attribution theory passed briefly through her mind.
‘Eurgh, no wonder I feel like shit. Karen always stops me mixing my drinks.’
‘This Karen, she your sister or something?’ Kieran asked as Bea took his arm and allowed herself to be lifted to her feet. She wobbled a little, but walking made her feel less like Bambi, with Kieran’s steady grip holding her upright.
‘Or something,’ she muttered, not wanting to think what Karen would say if she could see her now. ‘Look,