fairy lights everywhere, the music is booming, and with the tens and tens of guests who walk through the door, each one brings more and more to alcohol to add the healthy supply we bought in anticipation of the big event.
As the familiar drum beat of The Ting Tings ‘That’s Not My Name’ starts, someone turns up the music.
‘Tune,’ Clarky declares as he, for some bizarre reason (probably alcohol), walks like an Egyptian across the crowded room.
I glance around the living room, looking for my friends. I watch as Fifi and Zach take part in drinking games. They kiss for a dare, but when the game moves on, Zach puts up a wall between the two of them, like he always does. Clarky sits down at the table and spins the bottle, which lands on Fifi. He looks delighted when she’s quick to kiss him, but she’s obviously only doing it to make Zach jealous. I know better than to try and get her attention right now, she’s a woman on a mission.
Matt is in the kitchen, sitting on the worktop, with a captive group of girls forming a crowd in front of him. He’s wearing a fedora, because of course he is. I think he thinks that cool guys at parties wear fedoras, but I can’t see that one standing the test of time. This is all classic Matt, turning his cheeky charm on for the ladies. I don’t know if he does it because he’s interested in one of them (or all of them) or if he just flirts for sport, but you’ll always find him flirting in the kitchen at parties, that’s for sure.
The house is pretty full – full of more people I don’t recognise than people I do. For some reason that I can’t quite put my finger on, I’m feeling a little bit overwhelmed by all the noise and all the people. I wonder where Ed is. Ed has never been much of a party animal, he’s probably hiding in his room. Perhaps I can go and hang out with him for a while, hide from the party chaos, watch him play FIFA until things calm down or Fifi tears herself away from Zach for long enough to spend a little time with me.
I knock on Ed’s door once. Then again. He might have his headphones on, so I open the door just a crack, only enough to see whether or not his light is on (because you never know what you’ll walk in on when you live with men who weren’t teenagers too long ago), but it isn’t, so he’s either not in there, or he’s fast asleep.
I sigh, heading to my own room where I close the door behind me. The booming of the music and the chatter of the rowdy crowd is only slightly muted by my bedroom door, but it’s just nice to get away from all the noise. I leave my lights off, only turning on the little fairy lights that hang above my bed. I sit on the edge of my bed for a second before lying back and closing my eyes. I just need a quick breather before I go back out there. It’s just the noise and the people and perhaps because I’ve had a little to drink. I just need a couple of minutes.
In the sanctuary of my bedroom, I feel myself becoming lighter again. That is, until I hear someone open my door. I quickly sit up.
‘Hello,’ a man standing in my bedroom doorway says casually.
‘Erm, hi,’ I reply, not sure what else to say to the stranger, hovering right on the edge of my personal space.
‘Can I come in?’ he asks.
‘I’d rather you—’ I start, but the man closes the door behind him before he sits down on the bed next to me. Now he really is in my personal space.
I feel so uncomfortable, having this random man sitting next to me, on my bed.
‘So this is your room?’ he asks me. ‘Or are you just looking for somewhere to hide from the crowd?’
‘Both,’ I reply, scooting over on the bed so that our thighs are no longer touching. ‘Which one of my housemates do you know?’
I feel like each one of my friends is so different that I’ll be able to get the measure of this man as soon as I know who he fraternises with.
‘Oh, none of them, I don’t think,’ he replies, running a hand through his messy brown hair.
‘What are you studying?’ I ask, looking for connections.
‘I’m not at uni,’ he laughs. ‘I just came for the party, me and a few of the lads thought it might be a good place to meet fun people.’
Suddenly it becomes apparent that this man looks a few years older than your average third-year uni student, and I don’t want to be cynical, but it sounds like he and his mates have only come here to meet younger girls.
‘You look like a virgin,’ he tells me.
‘What?’
‘Madonna. “Like a Virgin”. You look like she does in the music video, in that little black vest, with all those necklaces.’
I grab my phone from my bedside table, as casually as I can, like I’m just checking my texts, when what I actually want to do is try to call one of my friends, so they can come in a diffuse this awkward, uncomfortable situation.
‘Are you?’ he asks. ‘A virgin?’
The man leans over to me, placing a hand firmly on the back of my neck as he tries to kiss me.
I try to wiggle from his grasp, but he’s holding me pretty tightly.
‘Don’t,’ I say quietly.
‘Come on, just relax, lighten up,’ he demands, taking my phone from me, tossing it to one side. ‘It’s a party, you should be enjoying yourself.’
The man pushes me back on the bed, pressing his body down on top of mine. He feels so impossibly heavy and my best efforts do nothing to shift him.
‘Get off me,’ I shout, trying to wiggle free from under him. ‘I said get off!’
The man halts his advances, but remains on top of me, pressing down so I feel like I’m trapped under a car.
‘Babe, you need to relax,’ he tells me. ‘Let your hair down a little.’
He might have stopped trying to kiss me, but he’s still on top of me, still trying to reason with me, still trying to get me to change my mind. The thing is, I’m not going to change my mind – there’s nothing he can say to convince me – and the fact that we both seem unwilling to compromise absolutely terrifies me.
I try to wiggle out from under him again, and this time I feel his weight lifting from on top of me.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ I hear a different man shout.
I look up to see someone is dragging the man from my bed by his hair.
‘Whoa, whoa, what are you doing, bud?’ the first man asks as he’s dragged across the room, towards the door.
‘She said get off her,’ the second man insists. ‘Are you deaf?’
I quickly sit up and watch as the second man forcefully shoves the first out of my bedroom door.
‘Get out of here,’ he tells him. ‘And if I ever see you again, you’ll regret it.’
I exhale for what feels like the first time in minutes, unable to believe my lucky escape.
My hero leaves my bedroom door wide open,
