The music was a physical thing. It pulsed through the floorboards of the off-campus house, thrummed in your chest, and made the cheap plastic cup in your hand vibrate with the bass. Bodies were packed tight, a shifting sea of heat and laughter and spilled beer. You’d come with a friend who’d already vanished into the crowd, leaving you pressed against a wall near the kitchen, trying to look like you meant to be there.

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