Rooney said nothing, but she finished putting on her heels and stood up to her full height.
‘Or do you just hate who I am as a person?’
Rooney swung round and said, ‘You are very stupid. And you should have let me win.’
There was a pause.
‘Sometimes I get to have what I want,’ said Pip with unnerving calmness. ‘Sometimes, I get to be the person who wins.’
I barely had time to think about the statement, because Rooney was about to erupt. She scrunched her hands into fists, and I could sense a real argument was coming, drink-fuelled and embarrassing to look back on. I needed to stop it. I needed to end this before it got any worse. These were the only two friends I had left.
So I hauled myself to my feet, which was a task in my dress.
I opened my mouth to speak. To try and bring this to a halt. Maybe even to try and help.
But what actually happened was all the blood rushed to my head. Stars tingled at the corner of my vision and my hearing went fuzzy.
And then I passed out.
I regained consciousness to find Pip patting my face slightly too hard.
‘Oh my God oh my God oh my God,’ she was stammering.
‘Please stop slapping me,’ I mumbled.
Rooney was there too, the annoyance completely gone from her expression and replaced by serious concern. ‘Holy shit, Georgia. How much did you drink?’
‘I … fourteen.’
‘Fourteen what?’
‘Fourteen drinks.’
‘No, you didn’t.’
‘OK, I can’t remember how much I drank.’
‘So why did you say fourteen?’
‘Sounded like a good number.’
We were interrupted by a few other students peering over Pip and Rooney’s shoulders, asking politely if I was OK. I realised I was still lying on the floor, which was awkward, so I sat up and reassured everyone that I was fine and had just had a bit too much to drink, which they chuckled at and went on with their evening. If I hadn’t been absolutely pissed out of my head, I would have been deeply embarrassed, but thankfully I was, and the only thing going through my mind was how much I wanted to throw up.
Rooney pulled me to my feet, one arm round my waist, which seemed to annoy Pip for some reason.
‘We should go chill in the cinema room for a bit,’ said Rooney. ‘We’ve still got six hours to kill. We can get you sobered up.’
Six hours? Sober was the last thing I wanted to be right now.
‘Noooo,’ I mumbled, but Rooney either ignored me or didn’t hear me. ‘Let me go. I’m fine.’
‘Clearly you are not, and we’re going to sit on a beanbag with some water for the next half an hour whether you like it or not.’
‘You’re not my mum.’
‘Well, your real mum would thank me.’
Rooney supported most of my weight as we walked through the floral, twinkling corridors of college, Pip trailing behind us. Nobody spoke until we reached the door of the cinema room and a loud voice behind us cried, ‘PIP! Oh my God, hi!’
In my hazy state I peered behind me at the voice. It belonged to a guy leading a large group of people who I didn’t recognise, most likely because they were from Pip’s college.
‘Come hang with us,’ the guy continued. ‘We’re all going to dance for a bit.’
Pip shuffled awkwardly. ‘Oh – er …’ She turned back to look at me.
I didn’t really know what to say, but thankfully Rooney spoke for me. ‘Just go. She’ll be fine with me.’
I nodded in agreement, giving her a wobbly thumbs-up.
‘OK, well … erm … I’ll meet you back here in, like, an hour?’ said Pip.
‘Yeah,’ said Rooney, and then we turned away, and Pip was gone.
‘Here,’ said Rooney, handing me a large glass of water and a toastie in a folded-up napkin as she slumped down next to me on a beanbag.
I took them obediently.
‘What’s in this?’ I said, waving the toastie.
‘Cheese and Marmite.’
‘Risky choice,’ I said, biting down into it. ‘What if I hated Marmite?’
‘It was the only filling they had left so you’re gonna eat it and make do.’
Thankfully, I love Marmite, and even if I didn’t, I probably would have eaten it anyway because I was suddenly ravenous. The nausea had passed, and my stomach felt painfully empty, so I munched on the toastie while we watched the movie that was currently playing on the screen.
We were the only people in the room. Distantly we could hear the thumping of the DJ’s music in the dance hall, which was no doubt where most people were. There was also some chattering coming from the room opposite, which was serving free tea and toasties, and occasionally loud laughter and voices would drift past the door as students went about their night together, doing whatever to pass the time until the end of the ball at dawn. It didn’t feel like a ball any more – it felt like a giant sleepover where nobody wanted to be the first to go to sleep.