"Double espresso cinnamon cappuccino latte," I say to the latte machine at a crowded local bar, slumping down on a seat by the counter. I've always felt the length of your latte was directly proportional to the amount of stress it could relieve. 

The machine at once whirs me down a cup of smooth creamy drink but much to my annoyance; with a cheesy little heart foamed onto it. I stir it aggressively with my finger till it becomes a distorted white piece of froth, and then sip on it contentedly. 

"Rav – I mean, Rachael!" I hear a familiar voice. 

I look up to see Mark beckoning to me from over a distance. I wave at him and get up with my latte, pushing my way through the crowd up to him. Brent and Jac are with him. 

"What's that on your face?" He laughs out loud. 

"What?" I ask, feeling my face. He reaches out and brushes a layer of cream off my upper lip. My insides flutter a little at his sudden touch.

"There," he says, as if the gesture was nothing more than ordinary. 

"What's that you're drinking?" An unfamiliar voice asks. I see a petite looking blonde standing by Brent. She's so small I hadn't even noticed her. She's eyeing my drink curiously. 

"It's a double espresso cinnamon cappuccino latte," I say. 

"Rachael - meet my girlfriend Naomi Watson," Brent says, putting an arm around her tiny frame. Naomi smiles sweetly at me. I seem to have finally met someone amiable. I smile back with a plain 'hi'. 

"How'd your training go, Rachael?" Jac asks suddenly. 

"Not great," I sigh, "I couldn't move one damn thing with my mind." 

She seems surprised, "Really? Mine went unexpectedly smooth – I pushed a car for over a mile." 

"Wow, that's great," I gulp down my disappointment. Why must I be a massive fail at everything?

"Can't help being the grand sucker Rachael," Mark says sympathetically.

"Oh, talking of grand suckers," Brent breathes into Naomi's ear, "Thank you for last night, baby."

"Geez, get a room, homies," Jac throws a soda can at them. I grin.

Naomi gives a small laugh. Well, maybe she is wilder than she looks.

"And let me rid you of this piece of crap," Mark takes the cup from my hands and starts pouring stuff from different bottles into it.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I try to snatch it back, but he whisks it out of my reach.

"You'll like it," Jac grins. Mark hands me back the cup, "This officially contains over five of the world's strongest alcoholic drinks. I dare you to drink it."

I laugh, "No thanks, I'm good."

"Oh come on!" Naomi presses, "It's kind of a ritual we have, Rachael. We all have to do our dares."

"Live a little Rachael. I mean, die a little," Mark corrects himself, "Or whatever."

I eye the drink suspiciously for some time before gulping it down. The others whoop and laugh loudly. It stings a little; but apart from that, isn't too bad.

"Now you give this bastard a dare, Rachael!" Brent says.

"Uh..." I wince as I feel the stinging intensifying in my throat. It's difficult to speak. "I don't know. You guys decide on something."

"Me, me, me," Naomi pleads.

"Sure," I say absently, gulping down some water from the counter.

"Okay," Naomi rubs her hands together, "I know this one's old but – kiss the prettiest girl in the room!"

"Yeah, except her," Brent adds, "Unless you want me to kick your cottony arse."

"That's easy," Mark grins as he turns to Jac, holds her chin and places a smooth kiss on her lips. Brent and Naomi explode in cheers. I suddenly feel a pang of jealousy as I see their lips meet. But I wave the thought away quickly and join in the whooping. I couldn't really expect Mark to kiss me – I mean, I'm no beauty compared to Jac. She is gorgeous. I look down, feeling a little awkward at being the odd one after the four of them have been paired off.

When they pull apart, Mark laughs nervously and Jac is all red but she is smiling at the same time. After a series of foolhardy dares and a couple of vodka shots, I find myself sitting at the counter alone with my drink, tapping my fingers to the beat of 'Shut Up And Dance' as the others had paired off to dance.

Out of nowhere, a short plump boy with curly black hair comes up and slumps down beside me. He stinks of liquor.

"Your ass is so nice," he begins, "That it's a shame you have to sit on it."

I groan, "Find someone else, boozecake."

"Oh wait - are you a magician?" he shoots up, "Cuz' Abracadayumm..."

"Okay, I think I'm going to disappear now," I get up to leave but bump into Mark as I abruptly turn.

"Where were you?" he seems relieved on seeing  me, "I was looking for you."

I narrow my eyes at him, "Why?"

"Well," he scratches his head, "I was wondering if you'd dance with me."

"What?" I laugh out in incredulity, "Where's Jac?"

He shrugs, "I don't know."

I look around. I don't see Brent nor Naomi anywhere in sight either.

I'm taken aback by his guts to ask me to dance after he's kissed my friend in front of me. Is he...flirting with me? Well, no, she probably ditched him and now I'm just what I'm best at being – the miserable last resort.

"So would you want to dance with me?" He flashes me a lopsided grin.

I'm about to refuse when the black-haired drunk guy interrupts.

"She's dancing with me. Aren't you, baby?" he slurs and smiles droopily.

Mark eyes him with distaste, "You have some serious standard deficiencies, Rachael."

"Rachael..." the guy says, reaching out for my hand, "That's a beautiful name. Dance with me, baby."

"Hey!" Mark suddenly yells out at the guy, "Someone just stole your hat. I think it was him!"

He points to a random stranger.

"Huh?" the guy touches the top of his head looking for his non-existent hat, "Oh crap, you're right."

He shoots off into the crowd, wrestling a passer-by onto the floor.

"Let's get out," Mark takes my arm as I suppress a smile and escape with him to a quieter corner of the bar.

"So?" he asks.

"Sorry, no," I laugh.

He rolls his eyes, "Sorry, don't care." 

He takes my hand and pulls me in swiftly. I can't help like the way he fearlessly pulls me in and the determination in his ocean eyes as he holds my gaze. His hands are firm yet gentle on mine.

"See ," he smiles, "Not that bad, is it?"

I roll my eyes, "Just be grateful I'm not the slapping kind."

"Don't worry, Rachael," he says, "It's all in the friend zone. It's just one of my favourite songs and I really wanted to dance to it."

He twirls me before throwing me into the air unexpectedly.

"No, stop, Rowan!" I shriek out in inertia as I am instantly reminded of the crazy times I've had with Rowan back in my days. Mark deftly catches me and smirks.

"So Rowan, is it?"

"Yeah," I smile at the thought of him, but then my smile subsides as I realise I'm dead to him.

Mark seems to read my mind, "Well, everything dies. That's the beauty of it."

"What about you?" I ask him, steering the subject away from my personal life, "Have you ever loved somebody?"

He laughs a little, "Believe it or not, I've never been in a long term relationship."

"So what, you just use girls to make love?"

He shrugs, "Pretty much." I realise we are still dancing with our hands lightly held together. I feel a little jittery wondering if he thinks the same way about me. Is he using me? Does he do this with every girl?

I let go of his hand and back away.

He looks dejected, "Is everything alright?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say, "I feel tired. Let's get some drinks."

After a few glasses and random conversation, Mark starts to talk weird.

"You're stoned," I say, "Would you want me to drop you off in your quarters?"

"No, I'm fine," he says, but stumbles miserably as he tries to stand up. I drape his arm over my shoulder and help him up. I guide him over to his quarters as he gives the directions. I had expected his apartment to be a dump, but it turns out to be overly clean and meticulous; contrary to mine.

"Clean freak," I mumble as I help him onto bed.

"Thanks Rachael," he says, "You are awesome."

"I know," I smile and turn to leave when I hear Mark say something unintelligible.

"What?" I ask.

"I said I'm sorry," he repeats.

"What for?"

He doesn't answer, so I assume he's drifted off to sleep.

"Good night, Mark," I turn the lights off and leave, trying to get the thought of Mark's firm hands on my waist out of my mind.