The party raged on. Teenagers boned. Alcohol was spilled. Vomit was vomited. Becky tried to parachute out of a second-story window with a bedsheet and a dream. Chad Charles felt the maelstrom swirl around him. It made him nervous. There were a lot of people in this house, some of whom were from out of town. Evelyn tried to start conversations three times and was cut off by more chaos- Titus yelling, Willow floating down out of the air, Becky unceremoniously landing in a hedge. For a brief second, he scowled, trying to figure out how to regain control of the situation. Before he could lose his composure, though, he swirled back around to Evelyn, who too had swirled to put him between her and Titus. Smart. 

"We've got a few different things going on," Chad said. "Beer pong here, pool in the rec room. Think there was a game of King's Cup going on down there too. A few of the AV club nerds came earlier with a Gamecube and I think they're playing some weird game upstairs. I watched for a few seconds- a fox with a gun and a dude with a sword. Not my thing. Lenny and Bobby set up upstairs with a bong, and of course we've got all the alcohol you can drink. I bet I can even get [i]Henry[/i] to black out." Chad turned as a boy walked up to him- short and thin with a puff of brown hair and lipstick almost as good as Evelyn's. He hugged Chad. 

"Hey, Joey!" Chad said. "Jamie, have you met Joey? He's a friend of mine from out of town." Joey and Jamie's eyes locked. 

"Oh, um, hey," Jamie said, smiling. "You look familiar. Maybe I saw you at a drag show a while ago?" 

"RuPaul in Philly?" Joey said. 

"Yeah! That was an awesome show. She [i]killed it[/i] out there," Jamie and Joey began to walk away into the crowd, chatting about wigs and lipstick and dresses and "slay"-ing, which Chad figured would be some kind of slang in about five years. He turned back towards Evelyn. 

"I heard you got caught up in all that crazy shit Friday," Chad said. "What was it like?" 

[hr]

In the kitchen, Mateo looked up at the ceiling. He bit his lip, trying not to cry in front of a crowd of teenagers. His head swirled with alcohol and self-loathing. Dexter was standing over him, blocking out the light. Mateo scowled and prepared to be insulted. He was met with kindness. Mateo stopped. For a moment, the tears leaked their way into the corners of his eyes. He felt his face burn so hot that he could have cried vapor. The laughter circled him like a flock of gulls, picking at his already garbage self esteem. 

"Y-yeah I'm fine," Mateo said. He wasn't sure if he was. He shook his head and the tears were gone, replaced by red-faced anger. "Punk..." he added weakly. Dexter helped him up. Mateo wobbled on his own two feet, and looked down at his khaki shorts- they were soaked through. He looked over at Dexter and tried to come up with something mean to say. Nothing came. He stood there for a few moments, as the laughter died down and the teenaged attention span expired. Then he stumbled towards the dining room. Mateo's gut felt like molten lead- heavy and burning and churning. His face quickly drained from scarlet to pale. 

"Ah shit," he said. "I...I need a fuckin' toilet," he said. Mateo bumped into several people as he drunkenly lumbered into the dining room, then leaned on the wall for support. Where was the bathroom? This place was enormous- back at his house, a one-story rancher, he knew where everything was. This place was a maze.