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And then Chanel was off, weaving her way through the crowd towards the only other black girl in the filled hall, leaving Jordan alone in a crowd of strangers. So far, he had enjoyed the company of Chanel, even while pressing through the awkward photoshoot at her house. The other girl was firey and quick with a reply and they had had quite an illuminating conversation on fashion on the ride over. Perhaps these forced partnerships weren’t as stupid an idea as they had appeared during the assembly a few weeks ago. 

Looking around the hall, the couples on the dance floor seemed pretty happy- apart from a few select partners with ‘I’m only here for my GPA’ expressions on their faces. Jordan laughed quietly to himself upon seeing one girl trying her best to keep her date as far away as possible while still dancing together. He cast his eyes to the edges of the floor, where students who had taken up chatting with their friends or weren’t quite deep enough in the probably-spiked punch to start shaking it to the brash electronic songs the DJ was playing stayed. 

He sensed if Bea had made it to the dance yet she would be there- unless she had pregamed enough for a repeat of her salsa performance at Diablo’s party. Finally his eyes alighted on Kavan, the tall Indian boy’s long dark hair standing out from the crowd. And beside him… or more accurately, wrapped around him was Bea.

It hurt. Only god - and maybe Bea - knew what was happening between him and her. Sure, they’d shared that night on the beach, but by the way she’d danced around it during their conversations she seemed to have forgotten- or wanted to forget- all about it. Well, two could play at that game. If Bea was just trying to piss him off, or if she was looking for someone else, the way her small body clung tightly to Kavan and the arm he had around her was having some effect. 

Jordan was going to enjoy this night with Chanel, Bea be damned. He made his way over to where Chanel and her friend lurked around the refreshments table, just in time to watch her dump a small bottle’s worth of vodka into the punch bowl.

[b][color=#D2652C]"Think anyone will mind?"[/color][/b] Chanel smirked at her companion, and Jordan leant around to scoop a glass for himself. 

[color=8c5bff][b]‘I doubt anyone would mind a little shaking up. Those dancers look far too sober for a real party,’[/b][/color] Jordan said, smiling. [color=8c5bff][b]‘And I don’t think I’ve met your friend?’[/b][/color] he asked, pointing the question at the other girl.