"Have you seen Sydney?"

I could barely hear Cora over the thumping music and the rowdy crowing of the soccer boys playing beer pong in the next room. Cora's hands were shaking slightly, a sign that she was particularly frazzled. More so than usual.

I unstuck myself from the kitchen wall, where I had been chatting to a deeply upset and drunk Joshua Greene, to lean closer to Cora, careful not to spill my drink. "Sydney?" I yelled back. "I don't think so, why?"

Cora bent down to my level to speak straight into my ear. I plugged the other side with my finger, blocking out the ambient noise. "I haven't seen Syd in an hour, and I'm worried."

"She's probably following Kai around," I said with a shrug. "Let her live her best stalker life."

Cora shook her head. "Don't you remember? Tommy said that Kai isn't coming tonight, so she's not with him."

Memory, actually, wasn't currently my forte. I blamed vodka. She was a nasty little bitch, even though I did love her. She made my head spin and my eyes blur, but she also made me fun. Even though I was mildly intoxicated, I knew Sydney like the back of my hand. Most of the time, the best course of action was to just let Sydney be Sydney. She could go ride a wild boar or proclaim herself Queen of the Western Suburbs or decided to fight a car, and it's not like I could stop her even if I did find her. I wasn't her mother.

But Cora looked at me pleadingly, as her eyes were such a vivid blue. "Can you help me find her?"

I loved Syd—she would always be my best friend, my number one, the first person I texted with drama or gossip or problems—but it was a little bit tiring that every party involved some rendition of this conversation. I knew that Sydney found Cora's overbearing nature frustrating, but it wasn't all that hard to send through an update occasionally, really. Mobile phones existed. Besides, Cora and Sydney were supposed to be friends; an update would ease Cora's mind, and Sydney should just check her goddamn phone.

Sydney was always disappearing; admittedly, it was usually to follow Kai from room to room hoping to finally garner more than a few moments of his time. I was just dancing the same dance as I had a hundred times before.

I sighed, my hands immediately reaching for the golden T necklace that rested at the base of my throat. "I actually haven't seen Tommy in a while, either. We can go find them both."

Cora smiled. "Thank you so much."

I downed the remainder of my vodka pineapple in a single gulp, wincing, and quickly apologised to Joshua Greene for cutting our conversation short. Secretly, I was grateful. We'd been talking about his boyfriend drama for twenty minutes, and he was too drunk to remember any of my incredible advice. Before I'd even finished mouthing my goodbyes to Josh, Cora was grabbing my arm and dragging me into the crowded living room. 

The living room was truly a scene. Some of the basketball guys were drawing a penis on a sleeping girl's forehead, while her best friend was chugging from a bottle of vodka as if it were water after a long hike. Jack Heath, the host, was standing on the dining table with a dildo in one hand and a newspaper in the other, whacking people on the head with one or the other depending on how much he liked them. His girlfriend Rebecca was throwing miniature pies at his head.

Surprisingly, Sydney was nowhere to be seen. This kind of thing was usually her scene, and she usually she would be dragging me to the most visible spot in the room to dance seductively for the pleasure of the crowd, and, most specifically, Kai Delaney.

I didn't like to steal her spotlight—or even nudge the very edge of it with my pinky—so while Sydney went for all out sexy dancing like she was a stripper who needed to pay her rent, I generally went more for Hugh Grant in Love Actually.

Tommy didn't like it when Sydney pressured me to let loose. Even though it was abundantly clear I was merely playing sidekick to Syd—fluffing her hair and giving her a human pole to dance around—he thought it was asking for trouble.

I hadn't seen Tommy for a few hours, either. But that didn't surprise me; he preferred to sit outside with his mates and nurse his beer. He didn't see the point of chatting to people he wasn't friends with.

"Can you check upstairs?" Cora said in my ear. "I'll look outside. Text me if you find her."

I gave Cora an enthusiastic thumbs up.

If Sydney wasn't close to death, I was going to be mad. Not legitimately, but maybe slightly annoyed. Just a bit. Syd knew that Cora worried, every single party, but no matter how many times I begged her, she refused to check in with Cora. "I'm a free spirit, Val. It totally ruins the adventure if you have to update Ms. Worry Wart every twenty seconds."

The stairs were sticky beneath my feet, despite Jack's strict go-upstairs-and-die policy. If I remembered correctly—and really, my brain was currently a little woolly, vodka and wine slowing my thoughts and my recollection of the night—Joshua Greene had dropped his beer on the stairs a few hours prior.

The music wasn't nearly as loud at the top of the stairs, and the crowd had thinned out to a mere few stragglers; a group of giggling girls taking selfies in the bathroom mirror and a guy sitting in the corner staring at the ceiling with glazed eyes. He appeared to be alive, though, so I guess that's a win.

"Sydney," I called out. "Here, kitty, kitty."

Her clear voice didn't call back to me, but the girls in the bathroom gave me a funny look. I smiled tightly back and them and waved. They shrugged and went back to pouting at their camera screen. Every single one of them had perfect eyeliner.

"Yo, Sydney!" I yelled, cupping my hands over my mouth in a sub-par makeshift megaphone. "I'll do a slut drop on a table if you will just text Cora to confirm you're alive!"

There was no response. The out-of-it bloke on the floor puked on his shoes, and it was clear he'd been drinking Cosmo's because it was all a vibrant red-pink colour. Sexy.

"Sydneyyy!" I called, stumbling gracefully over thin air. Stupid vodka. "One Direction is here and they said your mum sold you to them and you're their slave now!" She was both a One Direction and fanfiction fan, both quite secretly, and if that information ever got out she would hang me from the ceiling by my innards.

Nothing.

As it became increasingly evident that Sydney was not going to appear out of the blue, I groaned and made my way further through the top floor. Most of the bedrooms were upstairs; all of which were strictly off-limits to everyone, though Tommy had already told me that Jack had lent him the key to one of the upstairs bedrooms.

I pulled out my phone to shoot a text to Cora. Havnt found hr yet u sean Tomy? The haze of alcohol blurred my keyboard, and my fingers felt three times as large as usual. Hopefully the somewhat sober Cora, who refrained from drinking to make sure everyone else was okay, would be able to decipher the message.

Tommy isn't outside.

Weird. I hadn't seen Tommy downstairs, and my boyfriend wasn't the wallflower type, so he wouldn't be hiding anywhere. Usually he was reliably outside, drinking with his big group of mates and yelling things out to the wild Jack.

Maybe he'd found Syd somewhere. Tommy might not like her all that much, but he was a nice guy. If he'd found Syd with her head in a vase emptying the contents of her stomach, he would hold her hair back and murmur reassuring words until she was better.

My phone vibrated with another message from Cora. I can't see Sydney anywhere. Kai is at another party across town, you don't think she'd ditch and go there, do you?

I definitely did think that. It was quintessential Syd. Some part of her, I knew, enjoyed Cora's concern over her whereabouts. She liked the attention, just a little bit. Loved to send a text to the group chat the next day, always the same. Babessss you need to stop worrying so much. Let your hair down. Ally, I got so many cute pics of us we should totes post to the gram. Now who wants to hear about my crazy night?

I loved her for it, though. Syd loved the spotlight unapologetically, and it meant that her stories were always bigger and brighter and bolder than everyone else's, and the sun that shined on her was warm, and it was almost an honour to stand in her orbit and absorb the outskirts of those rays.

At times like this, her wild side made me want to punch her in the face. She'd probably like that, though. It would make for an awesome story.

I knocked on the second bathroom door. "Sydney? Tommy?" There was no response, and when I tried the door handle, it was locked. Damn. Jack had the keys to most of the rooms up here.

Maybe Tommy had taken Sydney into one of the rooms to give her time to recover. Sydney was known for pulling far too many of her clothes off when she was wasted and running around to catch Kai's attention. Tommy, who disliked the pair of them, had often complained to me that they deserved each other.

But Tommy was a fundamentally a better person than most people—better than me, for sure, who usually just let Sydney's semi-nudity run its course and often would leave the puking Syd in Cora's capable hands—and I knew he was likely holed up in one of these rooms with Syd making sure she was okay.

I texted Cora back. I dn't reckon she'd d that to yuu. We'll find herr. I was definitely lying, but I didn't want Cora to have a premature aneurism. Cora was tall; I only had about half a muscle, and I definitely couldn't drag the athletic Cora into the car if she collapsed from stress.

Then I tapped on my messages with Tommy. The most recent one, from him, I hadn't seen yet. You all good, babe? Haven't seen you much tonight. Text me when you're done chatting to Josh xx

He was definitely here somewhere, then. I slid my phone into my back pocket, not worrying about trying to navigate the keyboard in my current state. From what I remembered the last time I'd been to Jack's house, the bedroom at the end of the hall was for guests, and had an en-suite bathroom. Tommy wouldn't have wanted to invade Jack's space, so he would've asked for the guest room key.

I didn't bother knocking. I tested the doorknob—open—and pushed it open. "Tom—oh."

What I saw was confusing, the edges of the picture blurred by the alcohol. I blinked, once, twice, trying to make sense of the scene in front of me. Limbs and skin and sheets and an image that was etching itself into my memory with burning acid. Well, I'd sure found Tommy and Sydney.

"Oh, shit, Ally," Tommy said, sitting bolt upright in the bed the wild panic in his eyes.

Sydney's eyes—eyes that I had loved my whole life, big and doe-like—were rounded with panic. "Val, wait, it's not—"

"That's, uh." I shook my head in disbelief. "That is... those are boobs."

Astute observation, Valerie. Thanks for that. I kind of hated that they were good boobs too. It seemed decidedly unfair.

Tommy sat up slowly.

"That is two naked bodies. That belong to my boyfriend and best friend. Who are lying together," I said slowly. I felt like I had to commentate, just to explain what my eyes told me I was witnessing, but what my mine had yet to justify. "Just good ol' Tommy and Syd, doing the hanky panky. In the bed I was invited to earlier." I squinted at them. "Does not appear to be the result of alcohol."

Sydney grinned with hesitation. "Could I convince you it was?"

I laughed, but it was high and fake. "Excellent joke, Syd! Would probably be funnier if you weren't sleeping with my boyfriend and I didn't kind of hate you right now!" Everything Sydney had ever done, every shitty jab or subtle dig, the constant and relentless criticism of everyone around her, the unchecked arrogance that I'd never commented on, because I was always so sure it was earned. When I grinned, it was Sydney's smile that I wore; sharp and vicious, like a blade. "So classic you, babe, defending every shitty thing you do with a fun little joke. Hot tip: doesn't actually work when it's not my lip gloss you're taking."

"We were just—" Tommy began.

I held up my hand. Despite the alcohol churning in my stomach and the thoughts that rose to the surface like molasses, it was not vodka that blazed a fiery path through my veins. Something new and dark settled within me instead; relaxed my limbs, pulled my shoulders back, tilted my chin upwards with steely resolve.

"You were just cheating on me," I said calmly. "Yes, I can see that, Tommy. Which makes you a bigger asshole than Sydney, actually. But thank you for your input. I'm sure Sydney said the same thing. You know, your input."

Sydney's laugh was nervous. She looked to Tommy for help, but he was looking at me, a desperate look of devastation in his eye. "Val, I didn't mean—"

"To be a garbage friend?" I once again cut in. "Simply do not sleep with my boyfriend and that would not be a problem. I was unaware the basic rules of friendship hadn't been explained to you."

"I didn't mean it, I swear, I didn't," Sydney said, shaking her head violently.

I put my hand over my heart. "Oh, were you just asleep, dreaming about humping the ceiling and woke up to find dear Tommy here? Never mind, my bad. Total miscommunication."

Tommy looked like he wanted to get up and run to me, but that wouldn't have helped, given he wasn't wearing any clothes, and that probably would've accentuated the situation rather than diffusing it. Tommy's slight frame was wracked with tremors, his voice unsteady. "I love you so much, Valerie. C'mon, forgive me for this, please."

"Interesting way of showing it. I too always sleep with the best friends of those I love. I'm just gonna be off, you know, to express my love for you by banging Jack."

Sydney's voice was a whisper. "Please, Ally."

I shot her a deadpan look. "Text Cora. She's worried about you, and there's no need for you to be shit friend to both of us." Then I pasted on a sarcastic smile. "Now you two crazy kids have fun. I've heard betrayal is super kinky."

Then I waved sunnily at them and sailed victoriously from the room, my middle finger held up like a salute to their clamouring shouts of my name.