He takes my hand or I take his hand or we both take each other's hand, I'm not sure entirely, but after a few seconds of fluid motion we're both standing up. I sort of lean, fall into him. His T-shirt feels soft. The flesh below it is warm. He's warm. I put my hand on the small of his back. I really really want to run away with him now, right away.

The trees and the lights have suddenly taken on a whole new level of beauty, intrigue. I feel like I could get lost in them just by staring at them. Lush. Glowing. A thousand fireflies. Being a little kid. On my father's shoulders. There are so many lights it's all I can do not to trance out on them completely.

Things are beginning to blur. He's saying something: 'We're leaving now.' I look down at the floor, at everyone, and suddenly I wonder whether he's fucked her. He has fucked everyone.
Everyone.