by Hacy Morris
Champagne was sloshing out of the glasses in our arms as Steven and I stumbled into the bedroom. I groped for the lights but only managed to switch on the little row of lights by the window, which were hardly bright enough to see by. Before I could find the correct switch, Steven pulled me inside, closed the door, and removed the glasses from my hands, placing them heavily on the bedside table. There was a clatter.