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with that guy. Was that fun?”
    “I couldn’t really keep up with him. He was too good at dancing,” said Penelope.
    “You’re a decent dancer though,” said Ted. “I saw. I thought you did a pretty good job.”
    “What a lie,” said Penelope. “Did you have fun?”
    “No,” said Ted.
    “That is because you weren’t dancing. At the next party, I want you to do the worm on the floor.”
    “Are you serious?” asked Ted.
    “I am just looking out for your welfare. If you want to have fun, that is what you must do,” said Penelope.
    “Thanks, Penelope,” said Ted. He scratched his scalp, temporarily moving his bangs off his forehead. Then they flopped back down again like a leaden weight.
    Ted took out his flask and drank out of it.
    “Want some?” he asked Penelope. Penelope shrugged her shoulders.
    “Sometimes I wonder if you are an alcoholic. Like William Faulkner,” said Penelope. She took a sip. It was warm vodka.
    “Eww,” said Penelope. “My mouth is numb.”
    “Are you OK?” asked Ted.
    “Is the pope in Rome?” asked Penelope. She laughed. This was one of her mother’s favorite expressions.
    Just then, Catherine, narrowly avoiding stepping in vomit, made her way toward the back of the bus.
    “This is where you guys were! I was so worried!” said Catherine.
    “Why?” said Ted.
    “Oh, I don’t know. I was worried you weren’t going to see us when you got off. We have to get off like right now. Come on, Ted.” Catherine grabbed his arm and Penelope followed behind them.

    The Eliot party was stuffed with people, which was good, but the lights were on, which was hard. Some people were dancing like crazed, uncoordinated animals. The rest were collecting in small terrible groups around the room.
    Penelope was standing in a group with Ted, Catherine, Glasses, and a sophomore named Phoebe who was regaling them all with a story of her summer internship.
    “I worked like fifteen-hour days. And sure, it was hard. But, in the end, it is an architectural dig in Malta. It’s going to be hard. But it’s also going to be interesting. I wish I could have planned my sophomore essay more, but hey? Trade-offs.”
    “Is that Mariah Carey I hear?” said Penelope.
    “I think so,” said Ted.
    “Didn’t you just love Malta? I always think it’s so impressive,” said Catherine. She put her arm in the crook of Ted’s arm.
    “Cool,” said Penelope. “I am going to go dance. Come on,you.” She pointed at Glasses and then took him by the elbow and led him away to the dance floor.
    “Penelope,” said Glasses, once they were dancing, “how do you know so many words to Mariah Carey songs?”
    “I don’t really know,” said Penelope. She was watching Catherine shimmy up and down Ted like a pole.
    “You are a good dancer,” said Glasses.
    “Thanks,” said Penelope.
    “Do you want another drink?” said Glasses.
    “Not really. I keep seeing two of you, and that’s not correct,” said Penelope.
    Almost immediately after Penelope uttered this sentence, Glasses grabbed each side of her face and kissed her, mostly with his incisors, on the mouth. Eventually Penelope wrangled loose, but it took her a good thirty seconds. She saw Ted out of the corner of her eyes as she struggled for freedom. He looked shocked. She also heard Catherine laughing. Her laugh was very annoying, probably due to her gland problem.
    “Hey,” said Penelope when she finally extricated herself. “Why did you do that? I didn’t think you even liked me very much.”
    “I don’t,” said Glasses. Then he vomited on Penelope’s shoes.
    “Oh,” said Penelope. “Well, I think that’s that.” She went to go find her pocketbook.

    When Penelope arrived at the entrance of Pennypacker, it was 2:30 a.m.
    She still had vomit all over her shoes. She tried rubbing her shoes in the grass, but that seemed to make it worse. She walked home by herself, as everyone else was going to get burritos at a late-night Mexican place.