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the long queue of people, as apparently Grace ‘knows’ the bouncer.  More like used to shag him; she practically licked his ear when she said thank you.  What a giant slag. 
    After walking through a long corridor, we enter a dark room with a high ceiling and massive glass windows showing the night stars.  The bar is lit up with purple and green lighting and bar men are throwing bottles back and forth to each other while the DJ plays funky jazz. 
    I try not to gasp.  I look at the others expecting to find their mouths ajar too, but they seem totally unimpressed.  Jesus, if this is the place they come for a Sunday night drink I dread to think where they go when they want to create real carnage.
    ‘Shots please!’ Izzy yells to the barman. 
    ‘Oh thanks, but I’m off shots,’ I shout over the music.
    They all stare back at me, making me feel like the new girl at school.  They look at each other amused and then burst into fits of giggles.  Sorry, am I missing something? 
    ‘What?’ I say, feeling the blood rushing to my cheeks.  Please don’t blush.
    ‘You don’t do shots?  Where do you come from, outer space?’ Grace says condescendingly.  Her eyes narrow and something inside me shivers, as if she’s penetrating my soul.  My throat chokes up and I pray I won't burst into tears.  I use all of my mental strength to lose her gaze.
    ‘I’m still a bit rough from last night.  But...ok, I suppose one can’t do any harm can it?’
     
     
    Within an hour I’m terribly drunk.  Izzy’s been pouring vodka into our lemonades all night, saving me from having to take out a personal loan.  I nearly passed out when I saw the drinks menu.  I’m grateful to Izzy for sneaking the bottle in her handbag, but it means I’ve lost track of how many drinks I’ve had.   
    Izzy is my new best friend.  Sure, she may have been really hyper and annoying at the start, but now she’s a riot!  At least she wants to dance.  Ryan and Grace are just being weird and boring, sipping their drinks and shooting me the occasional dirty look.  What is their problem? 
    I feel nice and floaty, a drunken buzz taking over my body, which means maybe I’ve had...four drinks?  Five?  Oh God, all I can think about is it being a Sunday.  I have work in the morning and my boss will have me running around all day.  How am I going to do this?
    ‘Come on – let’s dance!’ Izzy shouts, her hand motions getting bigger by the second.  ‘I love this song!’  She takes my hands and pulls me towards the giant dance floor, alive with beautiful people pouting and pretending to enjoy themselves. 
    Maybe it’s not the drink.  Maybe it’s hanging around with Disco Barbie Izzy that's making me so happy and outgoing.  I mean, I am dressed like a Barbie doll, so maybe this is how I’m expected to act. 
    I start shaking my moves to the beat; ignoring the strange looks I get from some blonde girls as they basically dry hump each other.  What is it with girls like that?  They’re always too busy checking who’s looking at them to really have a good time.  They need to let loose like me.  I’m pretty sure I could currently have Shakira in a dance off.   
    I’m so into the music that I barely notice when someone’s hands appear on my waist.  I turn around, assuming that it must be Grace or Ryan but I instead find a gorgeous man with olive skin and dark hair.  He smiles and licks his lips suggestively.  I almost lose my footing.  He’s so ravishing I think I might faint.  He must be a male model.  And he’s dancing with me! 
    I look back at Izzy who’s now dancing with Grace and she smiles back, giving me the thumbs up.  Grace, on the other hand, looks like she’s about to spit with jealousy.  Imagine this – another girl jealous of me!  I’m so flattered that I barely notice her shooting daggers at me from all directions.
    His hands grip tighter on my hips, pulling me closer to him.  A quiver of