It was quite difficult to find Simon without beers, even though if he was ill or of bed, gasping and surrounded of medicines. That night, at Barry Whalewood’s party, he wasn’t different. Lauren contemplated him from far, fixed to the bathroom door, for cases in which she needed to throw up the overage that her liver – tired – expulsed. - Are you gonna stay over there until when? – inquired impossible-Marconi, limping through the hall forwards the dance spot, where Simon, among girls and alchool cups, was having real fun. - Is there anyone else for you to bother, Marconi? Nobody deserves you, know that? I’m so sorry for your girlfriend. She must be mad as a hatter. - Chill. It was just a question. – replied him, laughing of the sudden and rude answer he got. – But, are you sure of that? Nobody, actually, deserves you! So it is that you’re there, lone, losted more than drunkers over there, on the corner. A boost gripped Lauren’s hand that wasn’t keeping a beer. She didn’t take a long time for feeling a huge desire of hit Marconi on the face. He always was freaking girls out at building’s rooms, trying to pregnant them …show more content…
– Now I need to go back to the party. - No, no... - After all, did you put it, didn’t? - Of course, stupid. I have what to care of. And she left the bedroom, dressed, keeping on her body the desire for the partner. He, otherwise, remained there, waiting Marian Jefferson to get out of the wardrobe for welcoming him. He smiled and laughed with the girl who, suddenly, appeared from the darkness of the closet for meeting him up on the soft Barry’s mattress. - Sick!... – said Marion, eagerly. - Did you hear what she said? – asked the boy. - Besides me, the cellphone did. – and both of them lay down, laughing, whereas Barry, at the hall, was going forwards the living room: beer between her fingers, greeting everybody and telling her friends what happened at the