The days thereafter pass in a haze. Everything seems so normal that it's almost as if I'm watching it on a TV screen. Everyday activities sort of fly over my head.
It's summer, and the rain has taken a break to allow the sun to see our faces.
The gazebo reacts to this weather like a greenhouse, and tries to bake us alive.
This amount of heat marks the return of shorter skirts and knicker-shorts, and tops that show off most of the girl's torsos.
Some guys who acknowledge the attractiveness of their torsos - and some who just generally don't care about it - don't bother with tops at all.
Evan, as it so happens, is one of these guys. He unbuttons his shirt, grinning, "We don't want to be too indecent now, do we?"
From girls and boys alike, unnecessary amounts of spray deodorant, which doesn't give the gazebo much fresh air.
I start to have conversations which don't mean anything, and life becomes sort of... predictable.
Even with Trish and her group of boys, I can always expect them to do something unexpected.
Trish's hair has grown out of it's style, and on one occasion the heat makes it overly frizzy.
Only half listening to what Judo's saying, I watch her ask Seamus for his scissors. She then parts her hair at the back and pulls it to the front of her shoulders. I trail off in my answer to Judo's question as she measures from her shoulders with Seamus's ruler, and then starts snipping off all the hair below it.
By now, we've all noticed and have fallen silent, her actions rendering us speechless. We just stare at her.
When she's done, she brushed the front over with her hand, giving herself a side parting. Then she notices us and looks at us levelly, like she knew we were watching.
"Trish. What. The absolute. Fuck?" Judo voices what all of us are thinking.
"What?" She shrugs. "It was annoying me."
"Lay off on the wacky gas," Daniel tells her, unable to keep the smirk off his face.