There are too many people on the elevator.
I close my eyes and try to focus on my breathing, detach, displace, I am laying on the floor of my room, my arms and legs stretched out to each wall, the room to myself, big, empty. Breathe in, out.
It works for a moment, until someone steps on my foot and another person is taking a photo. Our little group sandwiches together in the corner, bodies closer than before, and I look at the camera, smile. This is the second lift of the night. There are too many people on the elevators and I would have preferred to take the stairs.
The door opens and we file out. Sean catches my eye and we grin at each other.
"I want to climb up the side of this entire thing," I say, to no one in particular, "right to the top."
The others chip in with loud exclamations of the same desires, others with fears of doing something so insane. But even those apprehensive are still tingling at the fingertips, smiles too wide and eyes flashing excitedly. We are teenagers too