Everyone at the party was crammed in too close, even as they avoided her. She heard the obnoxious laughter of boys and saw the garish make up on girls. She felt like she was stuck in a clown car.

When she was a girl, Veronica had always liked the clown car best. Something about being in such close quarters to such joyous men appealed to her. She imagined all the bright colors bleeding together, melding into one unnamable euphoric entity.

The reality was nothing like that. It was claustrophobia, it was agony, it was isolation. It was just like suffocating.