There was really only one person who was going to get A out of her celibacy rut wasn't there? J is so pissed off she didn't see it coming. She's also pretty pissed off that A never learns her lesson, though she'd never tell her that.
It's been awhile since we've heard from V. After he and A got in their last fight (who even remembers what that was about) A refused to go anywhere he might show up. Usually it was easy to tell since he started several DJing stints and advertised all over facebook so it was easy to know which places to avoid. Especially since he kept sending L event invitations. Not that she was ever going to show up to them, including the invite to his huge birthday party. Then V headed off to Europe for a couple of months, smart-assly making A insanely jealous by sending postcards from many an exotic location with 'wish you were here...don't you?' scrawled over all of them. Recently though he returned home.
We've all been partying like crazy since exams ended. Yes, even L. A and J have of course become filthy alcoholics, waking up in gutters gripping plastic bottles full of flavoured vodka and with mouths so dry...well, I couldn't think of an approriate metaphor. A and C have been grinding on tables in clubs, J has been screwing guys in alleys who aren't her boyfriend, L has been skulling champagne in bathroom stalls and M has been throwing up half-digested noodles in restaurant sinks. We've hooked up with guys whose face we don't remember, let alone name of number. We've drank things we can't see and can't taste. J, Bossman and Druggie spent 2 days straight smoking pot and eating KFC and watching True Blood without knowing what was going on. L went bungee-jumping with uni friends. A has consumed enough beer to fill a swimming pool while going out with uni mates. Scariest of all, G has been swimming in the Yarra River. You just don't dive into that shit. Benders, benders, benders. Pubs and underground clubs we'll never remember the names or locations of. Getting kicked out of swanky cocktail bars. Thrashing at gigs and random rave parties. We'll drink anything. We'll smoke anything. We'll stick our tongues down anyone's throat. It's been fucking fun.
And then V showed up. A didn't even notice at first. She was so wasted on butterscotch Shnapps and Mandarin vodka and white wine and beer and fuck even cider she could hardly see. She'd just thrown up in a sink and was dancing like only the extremely drunk can on a night out with G and P and a few other randoms. V spotted his favourite train wreck and decided he wanted her for the night. A tried to resist. After all she's been non-sexual nearly a year and has gotten pretty good at resisting temptation but V has moves. He knows what she wants. And he's fucking good at it.
A went back to his place for a night of absolutely wild, brain-blasting and head spiraling (though that could have been the booze) sex only to wake up in the morning and vomit for three hours straight. She then called J sounding terrified and sick as hell blabbering 'what the hell have i done? i've slept with V...so, so many times'. J had no idea what to say. She's never tried to give A advice about V because she never listens anyway. Besides, she's had her own problems. No one should have a boyfriend during the post-exam party period. Motley Crue has been planning a summer holiday for the two of them. J has been having candle-dripping and handcuff sex with guys she doesn't know. She feels guilty, and yet she doesn't at all.
A snuck out of V's house and went home to spend the day in bed with pizza and litres upon litres of water. She had three missed calls from V during the day. She has no idea what she's going to do.