I wake up sick as fuck. My head is killing me. My throat is so dry, it’s like it’s been on an excursion to the Sahara for a last couple of months. I want to get up, but when I move my head, the room starts spinning. Jesus fuck, am I hungover…

I turn to grab the bottle of water from my bag, but I can’t find it. I also notice my shirt and my boxers are sticking to my body when I move.

Oh God, that happened.

And I need to pee. Like, right now.

I push myself up to find the dark bathroom, where I take a piss that lasts about an hour. Then I attempt to refill the lost fluid by getting to the kitchenette and drinking straight out of the hose, which is nasty as fuck and could give me all kinds of diseases.

A sudden wave of nausea hits me and causes me to sprint back to the bathroom. I fortunately reach the toilet in time to hurl all the water I just consumed back in the diarrhoea filled basin. Which is something I hadn’t noticed before in the utter dark, but I can sense now since my nose is so close.

The smell makes me heave more, and I keep throwing up for what seems like forever, until nothing comes out anymore. But my stomach doesn’t stop spasming, and my head throbbing so bad, I don’t even have the strength left to care about the stench. Or maybe my nose is clogged up from all the vomiting.

Here I sit in complete misery. Throbbing head, clenching stomach, bulging eyes, my dry throat aching from the acid I just coughed up. Probably serves me right, but I’m pitying myself regardless.

I try and breathe through it all, but this filthy dark hole is really not the place to do it. I have to gather all of my strength to remove myself from the floor, and drag myself back to the kitchenette to drink some water from the foul hose. I hope it stays in.

My head is killing me, but I don’t have any ibuprofen or paracetamol. So I head back into the room hoping somebody at least does. Because dying can’t be any worse than how I’m feeling right now.

I scan the room. Daylight makes that infinitely easier, but also confronts me with the whole fucking mess. Our circle is a complete chaos of burnt-out tea lights, empty bottles and wine cartons, messy puddles, cigarette butts, discarded rolling papers and spilled nastiness all-over.

Two of the separators we put up yesterday have been somewhat destroyed. I half-remember one of them fell victim to Bharin messing up a dare last night. Why the other is broken is beyond me. Behind one of the crumpled screens are Lars and his girlfriend. They look completely passed out. Yinthas and Ivanka are in the other corner. But they’re awake, and Ivanka is staring at me.

“Help…” I plead. Not knowing exactly what she can possibly do to save me from hell.

She gets up, and I notice she’s only wearing a shirt. Or maybe she’s wearing underwear, it’s an oversized shirt, but her long legs are completely naked. Her platinum blonde hair is down too. It’s even longer than I expected it to be, falling all the way to her slender waist.

She tilts her head a little, then starts rummaging in a bag. I find that she’s actually wearing a black G-string. It’s not that I care, but I want to focus on anything other than the pain, so I’m looking anyway.

When she gets back up, she hands me a bottle and two pills.

“What are those?” I ask. Apparently still caring about my well-being when part of me thinks it would be okay to get hit by a falling anvil and die on the spot.

“Paracetamol 500. And the water’s vodka. If that combination doesn’t work, nothing will.” She tells me.

Fair enough.

I pour the pills alongside three big gulps of the vodka down the hatch, trying not to choke on the burning alcohol, and wait. I hate it that it doesn’t work instantaneously, but I know better than to expect that. In the meanwhile, I try and find my stuff. I really need to wash that stickiness off me and put on some new clothes.

The thought stirs hazy memories that are incoherent and more remnant of some half-forgotten dream than actual events. A soft touch. Tension. Roaming hands. A sweet kiss. An all-encompassing orgasm. Cuddles.

I’m very aware that it happened, but I really can’t place how I feel about it.

Weird, sure. Like I ever expected to do something like that with Fuzz, of all people. But I have to admit I actually liked the intimacy. It was also wrong on many levels. For one: he started touching me when he thought I was asleep. Second: in the beginning I didn’t even realise it was him. Third: there were other people present in the same room!

Would anyone have noticed? In my memory the other couple was quite loud, so maybe they didn’t.

God, I hope not. I’m mortified as it is.

And I don’t even know how Fuzz feels about this… Does he actually like me? Does he think we’re dating now? Or was I just someone that was there? Maybe he was so fucked-up he doesn’t even remember. It’s hazy for me and I only had weed and alcohol. Who knows what kinds of shit he put into his system…

Do I want him to remember? Should I pretend nothing happened?

Too many questions for my head. I wash off the worst ickiness at the sink, put a fresh shirt and boxers on and lie back down on my air mattress. Then I drag my sleeping bag over my head, close my eyes, and pretend the world ended.

***

I wake up somewhat later. I don’t know how much since I didn’t check my phone the first time. It’s 13.36 now. The headache and nausea have disappeared, but I still feel like a wrung-out damp towel that’s been left lying around in a corner for too long.

I get up and find Anna and Jasmine cleaning.

“Ravi, you’re alive!” the redhead cheers.

“That’s debatable.” I reply.

“Well at least we had fun, huh?” she gives me a nudge.

Oh fuck, she knows… they know… everyone knows…

I try to ignore my rapidly reddening face and act like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Oh yeah, can’t wait for the next one.”

“Every day from now on!” She chirps.

Oh, hell fucking no. I can’t do that. I can’t spend every day of my life like this. I…

This is my life now.

I chose this.

“Won’t the truths and dares run out at some point?” I try being smart.

“Oh, no there’s dares enough for a lifetime. And there’s always new truths to uncover too. For instance: which one of you topped yesterday?”

I choke. “What? No one! I don’t know what the hell you are talking about!” My voice raises an octave by accident, and I may have never displayed a worse case of acting in my entire life.

“That’s not the truth.” She smirks.

“Well, I’m not playing!” I shout at her, my voice still shrill. Then I barge out of the room to, I don’t know, hide in a corner and transform into sea foam or something.

Oh my fucking God, everyone knows…

I need to find Fuzz.

I search for him, but he’s not here. So, instead I help the girls clean up the mess, which, apparently includes three discarded condoms on their side of the room.

“Ew.” I say as I spot Anna picking the up without gloves. Not that any of us has any, but still: I wouldn’t touch those with a ten-foot-pole. Then again, I did hear Anna moan yesterday. So she probably touched them before.

“What, afraid of condoms?” Anna smirks.

“When they’ve been inside you, and filled up with someone else’s sperm, then yeah.” I answer, the disgust radiating from my face. “Who did you sleep with anyway?” I ask, because for some reason I’d like to know.

“Jasmine.” She smirks.

“Oh, Jasmine filled up those condoms, did she?” I eye Jasmine with an incredulous expression.

“And Bharin…” Anna continues.

“And Alex.” Jasmine adds with a smile.

Holy shit. For some reason I feel the need to mentally label them sluts. Which is completely my dad’s fault, for bringing me up with prejudice. I personally really don’t have a double standard like that, and I’m well aware of my own nighttime activities. Also, if I could’ve slept with Alex, I would’ve probably done it in an instant too, although I certainly wouldn’t have included others.

“For fun, or are you a quadruple now?” I ask.

“For fun. But we’ll see how things evolve.” Anna smiles. “Speaking about fun, you’d better go and clean up your own condoms, because even if I’m still slightly curious over whose ass they’ve been in, I’m not toughing those either.”

“Jesus, Anna! I told you nothing happened!” I yell.

“And I told you that I know you’re lying. Josh left the room because I was making too much noise, so that means it was just you and Fuzz in that corner. And it’s not just me who heard you.” To make a point, she walks up to my mattress and starts throwing around blankets in search of evidence that isn’t there.

I expect her to apologise when she finds nothing, but she doesn’t. Instead, she eyes me with a nervous expression. “You didn’t use protection?” She asks me, as if I’m a complete idiot.

“For what?! I told you thrice already. We didn’t have sex!” I realise that I’m shouting.

She cocks an eyebrow. “So just hand-stuff?” she asks me.

“That’s none of your business!” I scream, aware that my face must have probably turned beet red. Anna and Jasmine are both laughing. Not in a cruel way, but they’re definitely laughing AT me.

“Say Ravi, are you a virgin?” Jasmine teases.

“Save that for truth or dare.” I growl, turning away. I’m not sure why I feel so bothered. These two gossip girls are always up to their necks in other people’s business and the both of them really don’t do secrets. I’ve known this for almost as long as I’ve known them, so why does it piss me off now?

I ignore them for the rest of the day, only getting over myself when it’s time to make dinner, which is more canned soup. By that time, everyone’s returned but Fuzz. I’m starting to worry if that’s got something to do with last night, but since no one mentioned anything after Anna did, I’m not bringing up the subject.