When Becca came into the kitchen, she was dressed in something white and lacy and faded— you know, the stuff they call now "vintage" and is the surest mark of cool— and sloshed a decent amount of Barton's vodka in the Dixie cup then followed by the plastic-cork California champagne. I wasn't sure if she was doing that as a friendly gesture, i.e., trying to get me drunk, or serving me something vile. If it was the former, she must have been pretty wasted herself, to not realize that I was really doing fine already myself, although admittedly that had been accomplished before Steve and I had shown up at the party. But she wandered off into the next room shortly after that, probably to grab the bong as it was being passed over & around the people making out, dancing, or doing both. I told Mira she was too quiet, which was sort of a senseless thing to do. I was worse to Mana, considering I don't really know her, but then again, I only asked if she was the Antichrist, and if pouring water on her would make her burn. I didn't even test to see if it was true, and I didn't question her taste in music at all.