One special party night on the kibbutz she'd said that she'd come to his room after the meal, have a few drinks then go to the party in the dining hall together.
He waited but she didn't turnup. To make himself feel better he took out his bong and had a good smoke. It hit his head like a hammer. 'Great feeling,' he thought. A few minutes later, head buzzing, he made his way to the dining room to join in the party. He sat at the back watching everyone else have a good time. He went to get himself a vodka from the makeshift bar, returned to his seat, pulled out a cigarette, lit up and then sank back to reflect on a few things.

"Hi," said someone to his right. He turned to look straight into her eyes.
"Hi yourself. I'm just gonna go back to my room for a smoke. Do you want to come?"
"No. I've just been there and had a bit myself."
He rose from the chair and took off for his room, leaving her by herself. He noticed his writing pad on the table - she'd been doodling on it. He'd just filled his bong with ice-cold water when he heard someone calling his name from outside. He recognised the voice. By the look and sound of her, she'd ran after him. "Come in," he said.

They talked, smoked and drank a little before going back to the party. He went to sit with a few friends and she left to go and talk with some of her friends. That was the last he saw of her in the dining room. He'd looked around a few times but hadn't seen her. A few more drinks later and feeling pretty drunk, he left. On his way back to his room he noticed her sitting with some English volunteer he vaguely knew. Someone he'd met on his first day back and who he thought was a little loud mouthed, and a person he didn't really want to talk to. He felt jealous, seeing them sitting together, but he didn't hold it against her. She hadn't seen him pass by.