My days took on a new routine. I would start by studying or doing homework for the unit I was studying in each of my classes. I would go to class and then I would meet Flint, study snacks in hand, for a few hours of what I was doing wrong. My nights were either dedicated to waking up every two hours for EMS calls or to more homework. My grades were steadily improving and Flint and I were developing our old rapport. Every three weeks, I let myself do something fun, like go to a party.

This time it was a fraternity party that Ruby and Lily had forgotten to put me on the list for. They were both loosely affiliated with sororities at the time, although time and general dissatisfaction would bring them even deeper into the fold. We had gotten past the bouncers with a few smiles and pointing to the list, as if I was an Elizabeth. They crossed the name off, laughing and exaggerating the sound of my now name. I hoped they would let Elizabeth in when she came. Lily and Ruby dragged me through the door, as they had already pre-gamed and could care less about Elizabeth. Were there consequences for this kind of thing?

“You deserve it,” Ruby said, reading my mind. “You’ve been like a monk in one of those monkeries for so many weeks.”

“Monastery,” I muttered, speeding towards the punch bowl in an effort to dim my thoughts as well.

I downed my first glass without breathing or swallowing more than twice. I reached for another, but paused at the sight of John, dancing in the crowd. I raised the hand with the glass in it to him in greeting. He didn’t wave back and I noticed what was occupying his attention. Rather, who. Sandy was twirling in front of him. She leaned in to touch his shoulder, indicating her possession like a cobra with a dead rabbit. One of them knew I was here. I wished that I had a club.

But I was basically in one, so instead, I grabbed Lily and we danced. We jumped up and down like middle school to the beats, dancing close, and trying to beat the other with the sexiest moves. Ruby joined us after a few Jell-O shots.

“You should try them,” she yelled over the song’s breakdown.

I smiled, my head loosely held in place by the muscle control I had left after the punch. We rocked out to every song, mouthing the words with the people we bumped into and waving our hands like lunatics, free at last. The disco started reflecting the rainbow Christmas lights that had been set up around the perimeter of the room. We saw Jacob walk in and immediately immerse himself in a group of fraternity brothers and sisters that were completely plastered. Lily broke off when Carl arrived. I stopped watching her when they stopped dancing. They did everything to extremes, anger and intimacy. Ruby and I leaned on each other so we didn’t fall on the beer-covered floor.

John began moving through the crowd towards us. I know it was childish, but I guided Ruby by her limp elbow and we migrated to the beer pong table. We picked the team we had seen around before and began using all of the strength in our vocal chords to guide the pong ball into the solo cups. It seemed like it was working too. We were either magical or the other team didn’t like how distracting our voices were. On the winning shot, Ruby screamed like a harpy and ran for the garbage can, spewing chunks of the pizza she and Lily had eaten before the party. In a fraternity, this is a badge of honor. The teams playing pong and any who had witnessed it cheered her on, occasionally walking over and patting her on the back. I pulled her hair back and looked at her pale face.

I picked one of the solo cups up and ran for water. By the time I was back, some random guy had her pressed up against the wall with his hand up her skirt. Her eyes were closed and she looked like the only thing supporting her was his hand. I threw the water from the cup at his face and caught Ruby right before she hit the floor.

“Crazy bitch,” the guy said when he had wiped the water out of his eyes.

I coaxed Ruby into drinking some of the water that was left and threw her arm around my shoulder. We shuffled for the door which was where John caught up to us.

“Let me help,” he said, lifting Ruby’s other arm over his shoulder.

“You’re busy,” I said. “I’ve got this.” Why had he chosen to intervene now? Five minutes ago would have been great.

“You won’t be able to get her back to the dorm like this.” He moved to pick her up completely.

I pulled her body towards mine, ignoring the smell of vomit. “If you want to feel needed, pick someone else to help. You can’t fix everything, John.”

He let go and Ruby and I made our way out of the party, baby step by baby step.

“That was rough,” Ruby said when we could hear ourselves think again. I wasn’t sure if she was talking about the party or John. I tried to pat her on the shoulder, but since she was taller than I was and was leaning on my shoulder, reaching for her shoulder made my arm cramp, and I stopped trying to be comforting.

“How much did you drink tonight?” I said, hoping to start some mindless chit-chat to keep from thinking of how far we had to go to get back to the dorm.

“Two…jelloooshots,” she said, tripping over a broken piece of the sidewalk.

That didn’t make any sense. Ruby was hardcore. She prided herself on being able to drink with the boys to an annoying degree. Two shots shouldn’t have even made her drunk. Tipsy, maybe. But this was way farther than either. I didn’t have time to figure it out until later, because Ruby reeled off of my shoulder to the grass and vomited twice more. A few hours later, still awake, I had given up on figuring out what was wrong with her tolerance. When she woke up the next day, we solved the puzzle pretty quickly. Her first question was: what happened? I explained and she shook her head.

“I don’t remember any of that,” she said. “I remember going, and dancing a bit. I had a couple Jell-O shots, but then there’s nothing.”

We settled on drugs as the culprit. We had heard about certain fraternities spiking things they thought only the girls would drink.

“We should have been drinking the beer,” I said. “How about you go take a shower?”

While she cleaned herself off, I weighed the pros and cons of reporting this to the police. On one hand, I wanted the people who had drugged her to suffer the consequences of their actions. On the other hand, she would have to admit to underage drinking to the police. I had heard stories about endless hours of community service, things going on your record and university discipline. I decided to leave it up to her, as it was her life that would be affected. She dismissed it faster than I could explain it to her. It wasn’t worth her record. And besides nothing had happened, she said. I tried to get her to think of what could have happened if I hadn’t been there. Or what could happen to another girl next weekend. She shrugged it off and buried it in the part of her brain that she doesn’t visit often. A few years later, talking to the police, I learned that they had been trying to crack down on cases like that to get evidence so they could stop the perpetrators. Ruby would have hated being evidence. I still wish there was a way I could have convinced her.