I nodded and helped her to her feet as she stumbled on the ridiculous high heels she wore. We wrestled our way to the bar.
“I’m in trouble,” I spoke into her ear as we waited to be served. She glanced back at me over her shoulder curiously. “I’ve had too much to drink. I’m starting to misbehave.”
“Ooh, Max-a-million,” Becca teased. “What have you done?”
“Nothing – yet. Maybe I should just go home.”
“Don’t you dare!” Becca shouted, frowning. “You can’t go home yet. Have another drink and chill out. Let’s dance, or something.”
I pulled a face and Becca rolled her eyes.
“Don’t tell me, you don’t like dancing?” she laughed. “Are you sure you’re gay?”
“Very sure.” I grinned.
Once we had fresh drinks, I let Becca drag me to the sweaty dance floor. The tiles were sticking underneath my feet, but I trailed along obediently. At the edge of the mass of dancing bodies, all grinding and shimmying to the heavy bass beat, I spotted John. It was like watching your dad dancing at a wedding. A few of the other nurses were there too and they screeched happily as they saw us approaching.
Becca immediately slid into the beat, shaking her body in time with the music and turned her back on me. The room spun, but the strange vibrations of the music were oddly comforting. Despite my earlier complaints, I found myself caught up in the beat and let Becca grind against me. She pressed her body tight to mine and we writhed against one another.
Becca raised a hand up over her head and grasped the back of my neck. I ran my hand down her body, resting my palm against the curve of her hip.
“Get a room you two!” one of the nurses shouted to us with a wide grin.
We danced for a few more songs, but as one died away and was replaced with another, both Becca and I stumbled away from the dance floor – sweaty and hand in hand. We slumped back down on the sofas with the others.
Trisha leaned across and tapped my knee. “Max, sorry if this seems rude, but I totally thought you were gay.”
“I am,” I shouted back.
Trisha smiled and looked relieved. “See, I thought you were, but then when you were dancing with Becca... I hope I didn’t offend you.”
Thirsty, I gulped my drink greedily. “No worries, Trish, no offence taken.” It was nice to be so open about my sexuality. I wasn’t ashamed of who I was, but I wasn’t stupid enough to shout it to the world. You often got more trouble than it was worth that way. I was too drunk to consider who was in earshot.
As the night went on, the group began to splinter off as people started to head home. Becca, John and Trisha had arranged to share a taxi home with each other. Rowan and I followed them out onto the street. It was freezing, our warm breath fogging in the night air.
I watched Trish and John struggle into their taxi and Becca turned to squeeze me in a tight hug. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay getting a taxi home on your own?” she asked.
“’Course.” I nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
“Alright.” She kissed my cheek.
“Text me when you get in.”
“I will Max-a-million.” She flashed me a good view of her knickers as she inelegantly stumbled into the taxi to join the others. I watched them drive away, suddenly painfully aware that it was just Rowan and I left behind. I rubbed my arms and turned to look at him.
“How are you still here and sober?” I laughed. “What time is it?”
He pulled the sleeve of his coat back to look at his watch. I regretted not bringing a jacket of my own. “Two?”
“Fuck, I should get a taxi.” I shivered.
Rowan shook his head. “I’ll take you home.”
“Honestly, it’s—”
“Max, seriously. It’s no big deal. Come on, you must be freezing.” Rowan beckoned me to follow him and began walking away down the street. I hesitated for a moment before jogging to catch him up.
“Thanks, I owe you.” We walked a little way in silence before I groaned. “Fuck me, it’s cold.”
