"But you went to the one before," Chris points out, remembering his first party in his hut. It'd been fucking mental and amazing and maybe he'd been fucked then, but he still remembers it. He still remembers kissing Claire that first time, for sure.

Okay, yeah, so he knows that Claire doesn't do pills or spliff or anything-- he's pretty sure she didn't even at that first party-- but she usually turns up anyway.

"What's goin' on, Claire?" He reckons that maybe it's because of how everything is between them. It hasn't been right for ages, it seems. Not since everyone had gone camping. Not since she asked him to choose.