Our usual Friday night pub crawl. I took ½ a gram of speed again, in the toilet of The Anchor: when I sat back down I felt the rush of excitement fluttering in my stomach and my heart. I felt impatient with the superficialities of pub conversation, needing intensity and emotion. So I talked with Susie about her near-anorexia of a few years ago and her feelings that RCP Carl has taken her for a ride during their four-day romance.
In the last pub the two of us sat apart from everyone else, and I felt knotted up and desperate again. Susie rested her head on my shoulder in a little gesture of comfort and sympathy.
When we got back to Uni. we were invited to a ‘party’ in an adjacent corridor. Stefan and Catrin were loudly drunk and falling about all over the place, Stefan's long hair, lionesque beard and moustache framing sharp features pinched into an evil grin. As Lindsey poured herself a drink he came up behind her and thrust his hips provocatively just inches from her arse. Barry was very drunk, making clear moves towards an American girl.
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