Hurricane Drunk  Swaying slightly as she was gently buffed from
side to side by sweat-slicked bodies, Casey felt the beat of the
music thrumming through her body. The temperature on the dance
floor was unbearably hot, and the ice-cold vodka and coke in her
hand was doing nothing to cool her down or quench her thirst.
Desperate to move from the packed floor to somewhere a little
more spacious, Casey held her drink above her head and shimmied
her way past several drunk couples and exuberant dance moves to
shelter against the wall. She had no idea where her friends
were. The three of them had come to the club together, but
dispersed as soon as they were inside, Jen to the ladies room to
fix her make-up, Sara being escorted to the dance floor, and
Casey heading straight to the bar. That was at least forty-five
minutes ago. If this were any other night, Casey knew she would
be having what most people would call a 'classic freak-out
episode.' But, Casey pondered as she leant her head back against
the wall, hardly a