“So, how do you know Ariana?” he then asked.

I smiled at him, grateful that he had started the first topic of conversation.

“Ariana and I live in the same area and know each other since childhood.” I said with a grin and then nodded to Valeria.

“And then I introduced the two of them when we were teenagers."

He nodded and smiled at Valeria. She smiled shyly back.

I didn't know her being like that at all, she normally had no problem talking to people. Was she embarrassed somehow or just shy?

"And you? So you and Yuma I mean?” I then asked to keep the conversation going.

“Ahh, we literally know each other from before kindergarten. Our mothers were in the same baby club as us,” he laughed, now embarrassed as well.

"He’s one of my best buddies. And the others here are mostly friends, fellow students and friends of friends.”

“I heard you’re studying medicine?”, I asked with interest.

“Well, not exactly. I am studying Occupational Therapy. We have similar courses, but ultimately I'm not a doctor... but since we have a lot of overlap at the same faculty, I know a lot of medical students. Yuma also knows a lot of them, we share the same campus.”

“Occupational therapy?” came it from Valeria. “That's really interesting, I had a course on it last year but wasn't that happy. What courses are you taking in your program?”

And before I could add anything else to it, the two of them were already deep in conversation about Valeria’s studies in Psychology and the courses that the two of them had in common.

I smiled briefly at them when I saw how enthusiastically Valeria was talking and how well they understood each other once she had loosened up.

I took a few steps away from them to give them the privacy of their conversation. Even if that was perhaps unnecessary at a party like this one.

“Here, Madame,” said one of the two boys, whose names I had already forgotten.

"Your drink," he handed me a cocktail with some cream on top.

"Really?" I laughed and sipped some of the cream.

"Trust us, we know what we're doing." He winked at me and headed towards Valeria to give her her drink.

"Hey, if you're a bit lost, we'll set up a game of beer pong, that always helps break the ice."

He grinned at me afterwards and then left too.

I don't like beer, I wanted to add, but he had been too fast gone and couldn't hear me.

So I sipped my cocktail and looked around. I spotted Ariana further back towards the entrance, she was kissing Yuma and the two were moving slowly to the beat of the music.

I was happy for her, honestly. But since Valeria was also busy and Selma apparently wasn't here yet, I had to look for something else to do. Or rather someone else. I really had no problem meeting people at parties. Most of them were just as okay as I was with just broaching superficial topics and having fun and then going home. So I stood on the sidelines, listened to the music and waited for the beer pong game to be set up.

I had a quick chat with the other friend of the two that had mixed our drinks. He reminded me that his name was Matthew when I wasn't able to say it. It made me a little uncomfortable that I had so quickly forgotten, but he just ignored it. Then he took me into his team and, as expected, a few people lined up around the table to watch. The cups stood ready in a pyramid-like order and the bright orange coloured table tennis ball lay next to them.

However, we couldn't start since the other group was still missing a player. Or rather, only Torben's other friend was there without a partner.

“No one else wants to?” I asked, but then suddenly someone appeared next to him and when I looked at the newcomer, my jaw dropped.

It was him. The guy from the hospital room. The non-nurse. The guy from the swimming pool. The pool guy.

“You,” he said, just as surprised to see me.

“Do you know each other?” Matthew asked me.

“Briefly,” I simply answered and looked at him.

"That's not surprising, he knows a lot of girls." Matthew then laughed. “But don’t let his pretty face irritate you, he’s a beast at beer pong. He beats everyone because he plays dirty,” He made a teasing face at pool guy.

"Haha very funny. You're no better. Let's go, Spencer, we'll finish them off", he said challengingly, looking determined.

So, Spencer the other guy's name. Torben's other friend. Now, all I was missing was pool guy's name.

“Come on, come on. We'll get old here otherwise,” he joked, looking at me with a slight sneer.

This look made my rivalry flare up and I stood ready to fight.

Then I nodded to signal that I was ready, and he threw the first ball. It fell, hit cleanly on their side of the table and then jumped off in a perfect arc into the middle cup of the second row.

"Ahh the first throws are the easiest," Matthew said dismissively and then took the ball.

He chugged down the contents of the first cup, grimaced and then groaned.

“Aaaargh, you filled them with the disgusting stuff.”

Great. I didn't like beer anyway. Now, it seemed to be even the worst kind of beer.

“Here, give it a whiff,” he held the ball under my nose.

Taken by surprise, I blew on the ball. He grinned, then threw it. He also hit it perfectly.

“Let’s gooo,” he said cheeringly, raising his hand.

I hit the hand. Okay, he had an energy level that I had to try to match first.

Now, it was Spencer's turn. He didn't hit as perfectly as Pool Guy, but he also hit a cup from the back row.

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“Uhhh, your turn,” Matthew said and I grabbed the cup before he could hold it out to me again.

I didn't like being handed stuff all the time.

Pool Guy grinned and watched me lifting the cup, fishing out the ball and taking a quick sip. Then I grimaced.

“Ewww, whiskey?” My voice matched my face in that moment.

The others laughed.

"I'm surprised you recognize whiskey," Spencer commented.

"How come? Do you think a girl doesn't know alcohol?“

Spencer made a helpless sound. With these words I downed the liquid burning in my throat in one gulp.

The others cheered. “Let’s goo girl.”

Then it was my turn. I knew I would miss the first ball if I didn't concentrate. It was always like that, I would miss the first ball or the first two until I got used to it. But then it was usually difficult to catch up when the others were good and had already collected many points.

I took aim, exhaled, closed one eye and threw. And I scored.

Matthew cheered and slapped me on the shoulder. “Yes, yes!”

He wanted to high-five again and I followed it.

Now, it was pool guy's turn to drink one of the cups. He kept his gaze on me as he lifted the cup and calmly swallowed the contents without grimacing.

I felt hot under his gaze and I didn't know whether I liked it or it was unpleasant. Oh my, and this guy has already seen me in a bikini. Not the best conditions for withstanding a staring duel.

But whatever, get up, fix your crown and carry on.

We played for a few more rounds until I really felt the alcohol. We had played so quickly that it had taken time for it to take effect. But then it suddenly happened and I had to pull myself together so that it didn't get to my head too much.

Usually, I didn't have a bad tolerance, but I was slim and not super tall, so I had less material to hold the alcohol well.

The cheers from the people around the table and the team members became louder, longer and more exuberant. We played a second round, this time with beer and I had to restrain myself from spitting the stuff back into the cup in disgust.

Beer? OK. I didn't like it, but it was bearable. But this stuff just tasted like spoiled water - if water could be spoiled. Water that made you drunk.

“All right,” Matthew said to me when we were almost done with the second round. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, but he could tell I was very drunk.

“We’ll get through this quickly, okay?” he said and I nodded.

We threw a few more balls. Ironically, the more I drank, the better I got at aiming. Less inhibition? Better coordination? No plan but I was happy to accept it.

Both rounds were ultimately won by Spencer and Pool Guy and as punishment we had to drink the entire contents of our remaining cups, which added up to an embarrassing total of four. Wearily, we toasted our cups and drank two each.

Matthew had offered to take mine. His arguments that he was bigger, heavier and more motivated with beer sounded plausible. But I politely declined, accepted my fate as an honorable loser and then fervently emptied the cups.

“Good game,” I said and clapped Matthew on the shoulder.

He laughed and nodded. Then I walked towards the wall while the ground was ever so slightly uneven.

“Everything okay?” Matthew asked me again from behind.

“Yes, yes,” I simply said.

I heard them forming a new group and starting the round. I leaned my hips against the railing that stood on the wall on this side and provided additional fastening and security for my alcohol-shaked body. Then I took my cocktail, which I had previously placed on this very wall, and listlessly put the straw in my mouth. The sweetness of the Strawberry Colada felt good and filled my stomach.

I looked at the city, its center which could be seen from here. It was really beautiful at night, the skyscrapers lit up, a little machine behind me shot LED lights into the sky and everything flashed as if it were some kind of festival of lights in itself. My head was pleasantly numb and I just took all the impressions in.

Even though I either had slept badly, had bad thoughts, or had headaches for days, it was good that my head switched off completely even for just a moment. And even if that meant drinking alcohol.

“Should you drink more?” a voice suddenly asked me from behind, and the person to whom the voice belonged seemed so close to me that I could feel the warmth emanating from their body on the back of my neck.

I had earlier tied my hair into a bun at the back of my head to give my neck some fresh cold air breezes. Now I got goosebumps.

I was about to turn around, but he was already standing next to me at the railing and also smiling into the distance. Pool guy.

He looked even better than I remembered. Or was it the alcohol that deluded my eyes?

His dark hair, which reached to his ears, had been slightly parted back, but now it was tousled by the wind and the party and fell lightly in individual strands over his forehead. His face was angular, his eyes dark and sparkling and his smile wide and honest. He was about half a head taller than me, so I had to look up when I looked at him.

I noticed he was also wearing black, dark pants and a shirt that was open at the top and looked damn good on him. He had loosely folded back his sleeves. So in terms of colour, he suited me. I hadn't noticed that before.

I shook my head. I shouldn't have such thoughts. Not with pool type.

“No, you shouldn’t?” he asked and I remembered his previous question.

“Yes I should, I like the cocktail,” I added and he laughed quietly.

It was the same melodic laugh that I had heard in the hospital room. Now it gave me goosebumps again. I didn't like the effect this guy had on me. My goodness, I just got out of a relationship. I shouldn't even think about other men like that.

I sipped my cocktail to distract myself and the loud noise that my straw made indicated that it was empty. Disappointed, I placed the glass on the wall and calmly placed both hands on the railing.

“Since this is the third time we've met, I think we should introduce ourselves, shouldn't we?” he then said and simply continued the conversation.

How could he sound so normal when he had drunk almost as much as me? Or did it just seem normal to me? He was still looking at me with raised eyebrows. Oops, I didn't respond.

“Do you remember me?” he then asked.

“Yes, swimming pool guy,” I blurted out and I immediately regretted it.

He laughed. “Swimming pool guy? So you named me like that?”

I nodded. “I didn’t know your name.”

Then he nodded. “Fair enough.”

He held out his hand to me. “I’m Julien. It’s nice to meet you…again...,” he left a pause for me.

“Bonnie,” I said quickly, shaking his hand, which felt way too formal.

“Very pleased and very formal,” I said, to which he laughed again.

“I feel like our names are both of French origin. What a coincidence. Our first thing we have in common.” He winked at me.

“No,” I said unimaginatively. Great, what should I say now?

"No? What then?” he asked.

"Well," I began weakly. "I mean, it's not the only one. We both like to go swimming, we've both been to the hospital room and," I thought feverishly for a moment, "we're both wearing black today."

He laughed loudly. "Touché."

He pretended to be weighing up the third argument in his head as he scanned my outfit with his far too deep eyes and looked me up and down. Again, I had these flaming feelings inside me that I didn't know whether I liked or disliked.

“So,” I said to distract myself, "what are you doing here? I mean, how do you know the birthday child?”

I knew the answer already but it felt like safe territory for a conversation with this confusing guy.

His eyes twinkled briefly as if he knew, but then he turned back to the front.

“Torben? We study at the same faculty.”

“Occupational Therapy?” I asked and nodded knowingly.

“No. Medicine.”

I looked at him in surprise.

"Medicine? Wow,” my lips formed an O.

He looked amused and annoyed at the same time.

"I often get this reaction. People are fascinated when others study medicine. Where does that come from, I wonder.”

“Hm,” I thought loudly. "Probably because it's hard to be accepted to Med school, it's hard to study, you have to sacrifice a lot of time, your studies take years, and effort and... "

He raised his hands defensively. “Okay, I understand. What are you studying?”

I looked at him indignantly. “Why do you so quickly assume I’m studying? Does everyone have to study? Are training courses and apprenticeships not valued? It's all honest work.”

He backed down. “Sorry, that’s not what I meant. Of course that's cool. I mean, I didn't mean to put it that way, Arrrgh!"

I grinned broadly. “I'm just teasing you. I am studying Health Sciences.”

He shook his head in disbelief and snorted two or three times.

"Unbelievable. Drunk and looking for trouble.”

I just kept grinning and looking ahead to the lights in the distance again. But I had seen the sparkle in his eyes. He was amused and he seemed to like a challenge.

“How did you come up with that? Your studies I mean” he then asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I find it interesting. And I know that you can do cool things with it. I also think it’s important. To me at least.”

He squinted his eyes slightly in concentration as if he wanted to say something else, but couldn't decide what.

“And how far along are you?” he asked.

“I’m in the fifth semester. Hopefully I'll be finished by next summer.”

He hummed in agreement.

“So you’re 23 now then?” he asked appraisingly.

“22,” I corrected him. "And you? How far along are you?”

He looked at his hands. "Well, I'm in the eighth semester."

“Ahh, and that makes you 25?”

He laughed. "Just like you, Princess, you miscalculated by a year."