The dark amber liqueur in Jess' plastic cup sloshed from side to side. Or perhaps it was her that was sloshing side to side.

Sweaty bodies grinded against her. Faces dazed with ecstasy, others dazed by more man made substances, but all moving to the same demanding beat blasting from the speakers. The velcro sound of feet being peeled away from the alcohol sodden floor provided a fitting accompaniment.

The need to take off her shoes and be rid of her tight, constricting clothes intensified. She'd hit that imaginary wall in her mind.

Her night was over. And all she cared for now was her bed.

She squeezed through the crowd towards the kitchen.

'Where's Daryl?' she yelled.

'Outside,' someone answered.

She mumbled her thanks and stumbled onto the veranda, spotting the man in question with a joint pressed between his lips. His usually quick smile was absent as he stared at the embers smouldering on his joint.

'Daryl?'

He blinked at her, his pupils so big they swallowed his iris.

'Did I tell you my dad was on the swim team?' he asked.

She frowned at his line of thought. 'No.'

'He could have made it to the Olympics but there was some political bullshit and he got kicked off the team.'

'Sounds nasty,' she replied hastily.

He took a long drag from his joint and exhaled a puff of smoke that made her eyes water.

'He was a scholarship student, so no swim team, no scholarship. The university dropped him just like that.' Daryl clumsily tried to snap his fingers before giving up. 'My grandparents weren't poor, but they didn't have the clout to do a thing about it. If they'd been rich or well connected, the school board would never have thrown him off the team,' he seethed.

'What happened?' Jess asked.

Daryl paused with the joint halfway to his lips. 'Stupid shit. Doesn't matter.' His head turned in her direction, his smile swiftly regained its usual place as he took another drag.

'Great party, isn't it, Jess?' he slurred.

She stared at him, trying to keep up with the constant change of conversation.

'You should lay off the weed.' She tried to grab the joint, but he held it out of her reach, laughing.

'It's the one drug they don't test the swim team for,' he joked, placing it between his lips. 'Now let's go back in and dance?'

'I'm going home,' she announced.

His smile dimmed, and he bounded to his feet, more steady than she'd expected.

'But it's still early,' he whined.

'I'm going to go.'

She sighed when his hand gripped her wrist.

'Don't go, babe. There's still more fun,' he begged.

Jess closed her eyes and tried to focus on steadying herself rather than the pounding in her head. This was the part of the night she hated, convincing Daryl that she was serious about leaving. He hated when she skipped out early on a party.

'I really don't-'

'Come on. You don't want to leave yet. The night is still young.' He grinned at her.

'I'm tired.'

'Skip class tomorrow and stay with me?' He wrapped his arm around her waist and held out the joint.

The pungent smell of his breath and the still smoking joint made her nose wrinkle. She pushed it away from her face, making Daryl chuckle.

'And what do we have here? Aren't you two a happy couple?' a snide voice shouted from across the street.

She felt Daryl's hand clench against her back and she gripped his shoulders.

'Lets just go back to the party,' she urged.

She watched as he hesitated before ushering her back to the house.

'I'm talking to you, fish boy,' the voice hollered, followed by a chorus of male laughing.

Jess hung her head as Daryl rounded on the sniggering group.

'Better a fish boy than a quarterdick,' Daryl yelled back.

'Fuck,' she whispered to herself as she heard the sniggers stop.

'Do you want to say that again?' the snide voice drawled.

'You heard me. You're just a stuck up, rich dickhead that can pass a ball to another stuck up, rich dickhead.'

'Just leave it,' Jess said, trying to tow him back to the house.

'Yes, why don't you listen to your little girlfriend?' the voice teased. 'At least she's smart enough to realise that I'm the one saying the truth here.'

Daryl ripped his arm away from her grasp and stomped up to the group.

'You really think you can take me, Gareth?' snarled Daryl.

A barrage of laughs followed as the two men squared up to each other.

Jess gripped her middle and rolled her eyes. She turned back to the house to see a crowd forming. A few of Daryl's teammates were pushing their way forward with hard faces.

'I fucking know I can,' Gareth raged.

Jess didn't know who threw the first punch, but more people joined the brawl until the entire lawn was heaving with grunts and squeals.

'You've got to be kidding me,' she said. She wanted home, and now Daryl had to run his mouth off and start something.

'Not so tough now, are you?'

She followed the sound of Gareth's voice and spotted him standing over Daryl with his fist raised.

She didn't think, didn't hesitate. A bully like Gareth burrowed under her skin, ate at her being. She couldn't stand to allow him more power.

Her fist connected with his face before he even spotted her. The force of her blow knocked him to the floor. Not that she cared.

'Shit, it's the police,' someone screamed.

The yard became a mass of frantic people diving back into the house in hopes of escape, but Jess wasn't one of them.

She knelt by Daryl and winced at his split lip.

'Daryl? You okay?' she asked.

But he just squinted up at her, dazed.

'Miss? I'm going to have to ask you to come with me.'

She looked up into the face of a stern cop before shaking her head.

'He got punched, but I'm not sure what happened,' she lied.

'Don't worry, the paramedics will check him over, but I need you to come with me.'

She bit her lip but followed, keeping her bruised hand under her good one.

An early night was all she'd wanted, and now she was getting arrested.

***

Jess grimaced at the potent smell of urine, stale alcohol, and vomit. It made her head spin.

The old cop shows she'd watched as a child had lied to her. Jails were not as orderly, or indeed sanitary, as they had made them out to be.

'I'm sorry, babe,' Daryl said as he wretched again.

Her stomach rolled at the sound of yet more vomit hitting the metal toilet ball, but she put on a brave face.

'It's okay,' she said through gritted teeth.

'That's the key, girly. Don't let them get you down,' an old drunk slurred at her from another cubicle.

Yet another thing that the cop shows had lied about; gender segregated holding pens. At least it wouldn't take long for them to be processed.

Unless Gareth pressed charges, she amended in her head. And wouldn't it be just like Gareth to do exactly that.

'I think I can sit back with the others,' Daryl groaned.

Jess looked at him carefully. He was deathly pale, with deep purple bags under his eyes, and a shallow cut over his left cheek that had been swelling since they'd been arrested. She wasn't sure whether he was ready, but then he couldn't have that much liquid left in him to throw up.

Not saying anything, she helped him back to a spare bit of floor.

'Told you to take it easy on the Yager, dude,' joked one of his teammates.

The holding pen was fit to bursting with other university students. The cops were not pleased that a bunch of college kids were ruining their usually quiet Thursday night.

Daryl moaned and rested his head against his knees, blocking out the light that was making his headache worse.

Jess leaned away, wondering if he was going to vomit again.

And if there was one thing worse than being stuck in the local jail at 2am, it was being stuck in the local jail at 2am covered in vomit.

'So how long do you think they'll keep us here?' a girl from Jess' sorority worried.

'Not too long. The worst they can charge most of us with is drunk and disorderly,' Jess replied.

'Then why's it taking so long?' the girl exploded, running her fingers through her strawberry blonde locks.

'To prove a point? To get hold of the Dean? Since Gareth needed medical attention, they'll probably contact everyone's parents.'

'Fucking fantastic. That's the last thing I need is my parents riding my arse harder,' the girl cried.

'How'd you even know all this?' a guy asked, peering at her curiously.

'Just watch a lot of TV,' she lied.

'Hey, did anyone see who landed the punch on Gareth?' another guy piped up.

Most of the students who weren't passed out shook their heads.

'I didn't see who did it, but you should have seen the guy's face. Broken nose. Black eyes. The whole enchilada.'

'I don't care who did it. I'm just glad they took him down a peg or two. You don't just turn up to another frat and start something.'

'He's just had his head stuck up his arse since he scored that touchdown.'

'Or after he won that international coding competition.'

Jess put her head against the wall and closed her eyes, allowing the conversation to float around her, not feeling the need to intervene. Though she agreed with the majority.

Gareth was a typical college dickhead. Captain of the football team. Head of the fraternity; Delta Phi Alpha. And to top it all off, he was a total tech genius. He hadn't even needed to rely on his parents' immense wealth to get into university. He'd earned his place at the University of Texas. Which had only made his smugness that more irritating to behold.

As the talk continued onto the mystery puncher, Jess placed her other hand on top of her busted knuckles, wincing as she rubbed the damaged skin. The last thing she wanted to do was to star in the college gossip.

'You. You. And you. Up,' a gruff officer said, his handlebar moustache bristling as he held the door open.

'Come on, Daryl.' Jess pulled him to his feet and tried to steady him, though considering he was the star of the swim team, steadying his broad shoulders wasn't the easiest task for her five foot six-inch self.

One of his teammates saw her struggling and got hold of his other side and between them, they dragged Daryl through the hall.

Jess skidded to a halt when she heard a loud tinkling giggle, followed by a snort.

'What's up?' her helper asked, still trying to carry Daryl forward.

'Nothing,' she blurted, but inside she was cursing.

There was no way they would have called her. And there's no way she would have come. Jess tried to remember where she'd been the last time they talked. Ohio, maybe? Or was it Delaware?

As they rounded the corner, they had to walk crab-like to get past reception without letting go of Daryl. And then they were swamped by family. The small jail was even more packed than the holding pen.

Daryl's mother came forward, her curly black hair an exact replica of his, and pulled Daryl into her arms, sobbing hysterically as though he'd been shot rather than just sat in the local jail with a killer hangover.

And then the laugh came again, and Jess' eyes narrowed as she took her in.

Bell bottom jeans, tie dye crop top, and her neck laden down with necklaces. She looked exactly the same as she had the last time Jess had seen her, though the tips of hair were no longer green but a soft baby pink.

'Jesse.'

Jess didn't get time to avoid her as her sister's wiry arms wrapped around her. Instantly, she was enveloped by the familiar smells of her childhood. Lavender. Sage. And sandalwood. Her sister's personal favourites.

'Hey, Ash,' she muttered into her sister's shoulder.

Her sister's dangly hooped earrings brushed against Jess' check as she drew back.

'You look tired.' Ash frowned.

'Just spent my night in a holding pen,' Jess reminded her.

Ash's eyes twinkled, holding in the words she wanted to retort, with every eye on them.

'You're letting them go?' Gareth's mother screeched, having taken only two steps into the station. She glared at them all. Her eyes narrowing on Jess and Ash.

'Now Mrs Supswood, we don't really-.'

'One of these miscreants attacked my son,' she interrupted the officer.

'And we also have witnesses who say that he started the whole thing,' the officer reminded her.

'Utter rubbish.'

'This has been a long night. We've taken and processed all those taken in. So unless your son has anything more to add on who attacked him,' he paused, but Mrs Supswood only pursed her lips, 'then I think it's best everyone heads home.'

'I shall be writing to the councillor about this,' she threatened. 'I want to speak to the sheriff.'

The officer sighed, but beckoned her forward. 'Follow me.'

They all watched as Mrs Supswood stormed through the reception and into the back, her polished heels echoing off the vinyl floor.

'I think that's our queue to leave,' Ash said, nudging Jess' back.

'Wait, Jess.' Daryl stumbled out of his mother's arms and into the sisters.

They both leaned away from the unpleasant smell of his breath. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up stripping the ugly blue paint right off the wall.

'Sorry 'bout tonight. We still good for Saturday?'

'Saturday?'

'The swim meet. You'll come watch?'

'Oh right. Of course. I'll be there.'

Daryl managed a weak smile before his mother guided him away.

'Is that your boyfriend?' Ash asked.

'What's it to you?'

'Nothing, just doesn't seem your type.'

'Like you'd even know my type.'

Ash frowned. 'Your type's not him,' she said with certainty.

'Let's just go.'

'Hold on a sec.' Ash rummaged in her purse and set a small vial on the reception desk. The older officer gazed at it with interest.

'This is the stuff you were talking about?'

'Just two drops, massage into your heels, and I promise the pain in your arches will be much better,' Ash explained.

'At this point, I'll try anything. Thanks for this.' He pocketed the vial.

'Don't mention it. And should you need anymore, I post.' She handed over a card, and the officer pocketed it as well.

Jess avoided looking at any of the other students as they lingered behind, seeming to find her sister the height of interest.

'Ready, Ash?' she called, just wanting all this over.

'On my way. I got the monster waiting for us outback.'

Horror washed through Jess. 'You didn't-'

'Come on slowpoke, let's get you to bed,' her sister cut in, pushing her out the door and waving goodbye to the officer, who waved back bemusedly.