When Darcy was fourteen she drank for the first time at a party.
She was one of the only two freshmen invited because she became friends with Rebecca, who was the new girl everybody liked.
Rebecca wanted to be Darcy's friend because that's what she decided, end of story. Darcy got the feeling Rebecca wasn't the type to make female friends easily because she got the majority of her attention from boys.
It made her an outcast at school, and Darcy knew all about that.
"You Darcy?" Rebecca asked when Darcy skated past her one afternoon after school.
"Yeah. You Rebecca?" Darcy retorted, and she did a little spin past her, causing Rebecca's brows to hike up with interest.
"You wanna hang out?"
Darcy had friends, but since her parents divorced last summer, people were weirder with her. She got sadder and her friends were at a loss most of the time. She liked listening to her iPod and skating around.
She had boyfriends, but it wasn't something she cared too much about until Rebecca came along, and she was suddenly dressing different, trying on clothes that hugged her figure, made her stick out.
She promised to get matching tattoos and Darcy tagged along the time Rebecca got her nose pierced.
Darcy went to a party because it was impressive to be invited by older boys.
She learned that night that being out of her comfort zone didn't always make her braver. She still got dizzy sometimes when she got especially anxious.
Alcohol helped a lot. It made her giggle. It made her be someone else.
Because Rebecca wasn't the new girl. She wasn't anyone real.
Darcy made her up, skating around alone, dreaming up scenarios she'd never have because she no longer spoke to her friends.
She got her nose pierced. And even though she was grounded for it, she snuck out to the party she managed to get invited to.
She felt vulnerable with the older kids, and saw some girls in the kitchen (it was some stranger's house; Darcy had no idea whose address she arrived at) give her major side-eye, so Darcy drank some spiked punch.
She danced and threw up. It was the only party Darcy ever went to during high school.
She went back to skating and listening to music alone.
Years later, partying with Jane was another experience, far more positive.
The drinking only helped smooth their transition to singing at the karaoke bars they frequented in Tromsø.
Darcy did not sing otherwise, despite loving music.
She'd take a shot, and think to herself, What would Rebecca do? The bad girl amalgam she created danced in her mind's eye.
She and Jane half-yelled, half-sang Rip Her to Shreds in front of the confused local crowd and walk home together after cackling, their arms linked.
The thing about comfort zones was that she and Jane shared a lot of them, and brought out each other for the hell of it, even if it felt like sometimes Darcy could die from shame.
"I love you," Darcy whispered, seeing their breaths in front of them as they pushed through the frigid air back to their apartment.
"You're drunk," Jane replied, but she threaded her fingers through Darcy's, squeezing.