Thick cigarette smoke filled the air with a choking haze, stinging my eyes and making my voice rasp. The floor, sticky with spilled drink, was vibrating under me with the heavy bass from the speakers. My beer had gone so warm and flat that each sip made me want to vomit, but I persevered: determined to find the confidence from somewhere to join Gabes and his swarm of adoring girls. Normally I would have stayed clear of his bounty and gone in search of my own; but Leila Roberts perched giggling on the edge of his lap sipping from a bottle of Malibu, her sheet of long blonde hair swept over one shoulder. She was the only person who knew about my dancing and, to my knowledge, she hadn't told a soul. For that, I had fallen a little bit in love with her.

It had been well into the evening, dance classes and practices long over, and I'd taken to the studio for stress relief, only turning on one light at the very back so as not to be discovered. I was halfway through my routine before I'd noticed her. She too had retreated to the brick outbuilding with pointe shoes dangling round her neck in the hope of dancing alone, and she'd said barely ten words to me the whole encounter. I'd stopped the music hurriedly, terror apparent in my expression, and she had shook her head, turning it back on. So I'd finished the song, and turned breathless but defiant to face her.

"You dance very well." She'd said, and then she'd smiled and I'd felt like I was burning red from my toes to my ears.

"Are you done?" Her voice was like a thousand singing bells. "If not I can come back later."

"No, I'm done," I'd said, my words tumbling out on top of each other. "And thank you. I don't take dance so I don't get to do that very often."

"You should take it up. We could use a boy in our class, at least, one who dances like that."

I'd wanted to stay and watch her if only to spend more time with her and in that magical moment, but I could tell she was aching to get going and so I'd left, exchanging another smile and trying to fix how it had looked on her face in my mind forever.

In the corner of the room Leila laughed at a joke from Gabes and I realized I'd been staring. I turned away quickly taking another drink, my eyes guiltily on the floor. Suddenly, Knuckles was at my shoulder, his foul breath in my face and his eyes glazed and bloodshot.

"Who invited the freaks?" He growled.

I span around to follow the direction of his point, shying away from his heavy arm. It was Phil, again. With two other boys I didn't recognise.

"They're all boarders, but they're our year. Of course they were going to come." A small girl at my side was scowling at Knuckles. "And they're actually all really nice, hilarious, and intelligent."

Knuckles raised his eyebrows at me and I shrugged. "I don't know any of them."

Knuckles glanced over my shoulder and smirked. "Well, they sure seem to know you."

I twisted round again. Phil was pulling the other two towards me with a smile. "Hey Dan. Enjoying your drink? I highly doubt it."

I stared defensively down at my stale beer, and then to Phil's hand. I laughed. "You're drinking Malibu."

"Oh my God, I hadn't noticed." That infuriating, amused smile played across his face. "It's a hell of a lot nicer than the warm piss you're drinking."

"But Malibu's a girls' drink." I sniggered.

"And there was me thinking you might have grown up since this morning," Phil sighed, shaking his head. "I know you're intelligent Dan, I can see it deep, deep down. You just need to stop trying to fit in so much and maybe it will make an appearance."

I blinked, stung. "I have literally only just met you. Jesus Christ."

The tall, curly haired boy at his side laughed. "Don't mind him he's just had a few too many. Here, try some. If it's manly to drink your own piss then I will happily be a woman. This stuff is beautiful on a whole new level."

His green eyes glittered through the smoke and I warmed to his crooked smile immediately. Sceptically, I took a sip from the colourful bottle.

"Oh my God. That's so good! I thought a-..." I trailed off suddenly.

"I'm PJ, by the way." He smiled encouragingly.

I grinned shyly. "Hi. I'm Dan. Is it bad that I thought all alcohol tasted like beer? It's a- er... all I've ever had."

Phil gasped over dramatically. "How have you survived?!" He laughed, pulling me by the arm. "Come on. That big slab of dead meat abandoned you the moment you smiled at me, so you're coming with us."

I made to follow then stopped short, my gaze swinging back round to the girls in the corner. "Actually I think I'll just go and... Oh."

Gabes' hand was sneaking its way up Leila's thigh as she twisted her slender body round to smile at him, wrapping her arms around his wide shoulders.

"Hard luck mate," the third boy clapped me on the shoulder with an apologetic smile. "I'll get you a drink. I'm Chris by the way."

"Yeah." I muttered, my eyes still fixed on their tangled bodies.

"Aww, Dan, you can do better than her anyway, she's so orange she could camouflage in a carrot field." Phil poked his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and I was left speechless again.

"She's naturally tan." I mumbled halfheartedly.

Chris ignored me, raising an incredulous eyebrow at Phil. "A carrot field, Phil? So, she's green? Carrots grow underground, remember? Gee, and you're supposed to be the smart one."

As I let them sweep me through the jostling, dancing crowd, the music seemed to fade into the background. My head went numb, unable to process what I had seen. Gabes knew I liked her, I never shut up about her. He told me he'd be my wingman tonight for Christ's sake. I sighed quietly. I'd been stupid to think I'd ever have a chance with her, Gabes was a million times better looking than I'd ever be.

As drink after drink slipped down my throat, thoughts of Leila Roberts blurred into the vague haze of my intoxicated head. Phil, Chris and PJ were some of the strangest, most fascinating people I'd ever met. I felt completely at ease in their presence despite the drunken teenagers that surrounded us.

"I'm shooting in 24fps which has its pros and cons. On one hand you've got the intensity of the faster sequences, but then you've got render and edit times." Chris and PJ were animatedly discussing the short film projects they were working on for their media class, but the combination of alcohol and tech-talk made it hard to follow.

"And then this zombie just comes up and chucks a toaster through the window and there's some crazy glass flying everywhere and-"

"Have you got any bread? Because of the toaster." Phil slurred

"What? No, why-"

"No, I mean because I'm hungry."

"Let's make toast!" Chris piped in, grinning stupidly.

"No, I don't have the toaster here with me-"

The Malibu had me doubled over in uncontrollable giggles and Chris and Phil dragged PJ into Jake's kitchen, grey tiles already splattered with vomit in in one corner and spilled wine in another. We were just in time to see a pretty impressive explosion from one corner as two girls in hotpants tried to microwave an egg, but there was no sign of a toaster.

"Maybe there's a barbeque?" Chris suggested suddenly.

"Yeah!" beamed Phil, pulling the protesting PJ out the back door. I followed, tripping over an inanimate body in the darkness and landing face first in the wet mud. I pulled myself into crawling position, trying to follow the sounds of their shouts and laughter, but I was having a hard time staying upright and crashed straight into a flowerbed.

Phil's singsong voice floated over the shrubbery towards me and I struck out blindly towards it. "Where's Dan?"

"I'm over here!" I called, only it came out more like 'I ber erer!'

I could hear the slight squelch of Phil's footsteps in the mud and dull, metallic thuds somewhere in the distance. It sounded like Chris and PJ were trying to break into the garden shed.

"Don't step on me! I'm on the ground." I called out as Phil stumbled closer.

"Watchoo down there for?" He chuckled.

 I felt his hand graze the top of my hair and I caught it in mine, still giggling. "You found me!"

He laughed, taking hold of my hand and pulling me to my feet. "Hey gorgeous." He murmured, his voice suddenly mock-seductive and hoarse.

I giggled again, entwining my hands in his hair. "My saviour!"

He laughed with me, playing along and scooping his arms around me waist to pull me close, so close that I could feel his warm breath on my lips. "You know... It is very dark out here. We could elope. No one would ever know. In fact I think we should right now."

I snorted as he tackled me to the ground. We tussled for a minute before I straddled him triumphantly. He seemed surprised by my strength because he shot me a scowl through the shadows.

My "Ha!" was short lived, as he twisted suddenly out from under me, rolling me over in the mud and pinning my hands behind my head with his face brushing against mine.

My eyebrows retreated so far up my forehead that they probably disappeared into my hairline as his lips grazed my cheek. A delicious shiver ran down my spine . My vision was blurred and my head thick and fuzzy. It was so hard to focus my eyes and brain on any details. He was laughing, and then his lips were crashing down on mine and I started spinning and I wasn't so sure it was the drink anymore.

Our mouths were dry and sweet from the Malibu, and I was resisting the urge to pull away and lick my lips. He wasn't really kissing me, more smearing his lips all over my face doing a pretty good fish impression. It was a joke, he was messing around, smacking his lips and wriggling like an eel.  My hands hung awkwardly limp on his back as he released them, and my whole body stiffened and, too my embarrassment, started shaking. I don't think he noticed though because he was trailing a long line of elaborate pecks down my arm and to my hand; and in one smooth motion he was pulling to my feet laughing. I stood in silence, trembling and swaying. My eyes had adjusted to the dark and I could see his silhouette and the sparkle of his eyes. It was pitch black, but I swear he had that same amused smirk playing across his lips. He was too drunk to register anything odd about my reaction and I fought to pull myself together.

"Shall we, my lady?" He asked; and it took me a minute to realise he was offering his arm.

I took a quick breath to steady myself and wiped my clammy hand on my jeans, glad of the dark, before slipping my arm through his and trying to laugh.

"Where did Chris and Peej go?" I asked, instantly regretting it. My voice was high and shaky. I coughed quickly to try and cover up.

Phil took that opportunity to walk headfirst into a tree — thankfully distracting from my pathetic titter. I pulled him up laughing, playing it up by staggering and leaning on him as we walked, proving that I too was completely wasted and totally cool with the drunken joke among friends. Which it was. Phil probably did it all the time. He was an odd one, that much was clear already. It just wasn't quite how I'd played it out a thousand times in my head imagining my first kiss.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by the sound of singing drifting down on us seemingly from the stars. The voice was low and husky, and had a soothing if somewhat ethereal quality to it. With a sudden gust of wind the moon emerged from behind black clouds, bathing the garden in brilliant silver light. We were standing just in front of a tin-roofed shed with peeling green paint and a noticeable dent in the door. PJ sat on the roof, his long legs dangling over the edge and swinging slightly as he sang, Chris curled up asleep on his lap.

"Oh I don't wanna live on the moooon." As I watched, PJ ran his long fingers through Chris' tousled hair, stroking his cheek and smiling gently.  Maybe this was just an incredibly affectionate friendship group I'd stumbled into. Platonic lovers. I just hoped to God no one saw as Phil slipped his hand into mine and dragged me forwards with a grin.