Mina
Lucie, where are you?
Mina
I’ll be at the DJ but Benoit is in a bad shape. Jay and I might have to bring him home.
Mina
Babe, Benoit just puked on my shoes and doesn’t want to come home with Jay and I. We’re taking him anyway. Please tell me you’re okay. Send me a text when you see this and when you’re home. After we put Benoit to bed, I’ll come back to get you. Should be 30 minutes.
It’s the first time a friend has sent me so many messages when we lost each other in a party. And the very first to tell me they’d come get me. It shouldn’t make me emotional but somehow, that small token of friendship, something that should be expected and freely given, makes me feel all gooey and happy.
A late night ramen is going to be the cherry on top of this epic night.
Me
Sorry Mina, my knee had a run-in with Chris’s limp dick.
Mina
What the fuck did he do?
Me
Groped me, probably would have tried more if I didn’t kick his ass.
Mina
That’s my girl! I’ll come get you. Stay in the ladies’ room.
Me
Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I’m going home. My feet are killing me.
Mina
Text me when you’re safe behind your door.
I’m too tired to remind myself that people always leave me in the end and bask in this new-found friendship, a real smile on my face as I make my way to a pile of coats discarded on the floor in a corner of the large basement. I take mine off the pile, praying no one has puked or spilled their beer on it.
As I pass a dark corner, a familiar shape grabs my attention. I take a step forward. A guy has his hands inside a girl’s panties, her dress bunched around her waist. When I snap my eyes to her face, her head is lolling to the side like she’s seconds from passing out. I march to them and push the man off of her. He stumbles. And I recognise him.
“Fucking hell, Chris, get the fuck off of her.” I’m pushing at his chest with both hands but his surprise is short-lived.
“You’re a fucking ball-buster, you know that, bitch?”
My heart lurches to my throat at the clear threat in his posture but he must think we’re not worth it and he moves on, disappearing again into the crowd.
I turn to the girl, who’s now on the floor, head bowed into her bent knees. She’s scrawny and I have no problem sliding a shoulder under her arm and carrying to the bathroom, where I rally other women to find her friends. It takes twelve minutes. Relief surges through me when two blondes hug their friend to their chests. They’re drunk, too, but not as bad as the one with the sparkly dress.
“Oh my God, thank you, Lucie. Thank you.”
I didn’t even know they knew my name.
“Bree, where have you been?” one of them asks their friend who mumbles incoherently.
“You should take her home. Chris assaulted her. She’ll need to go to the police tomorrow.”
