[He opens his mouth as if to protest, but stops, closing it with the faintest of smirks instead.]

Maybe not.

The kids were mostly shut in a side room with a few hookahs and a keg of wine to keep us entertained. Too fucked up to remember our own names, let alone who we'd touched that night.

[He's only slightly embarrassed by this.]

That's what I would've called a real party.