A few people jostled to put drinks in the fridge or get ice, but the door into the garden had attracted most of those looking to talk at a volume lower than a scream. The kitchen, when Nick reached it, was indeed less chaotic. Nick, a bottle of wine clutched to his chest, continued his push, hoping the kitchen would be less crowded. Inhibitions between strangers had melted away under alcohol's influence, and everyone was pressed together as if they had known each other for life. Most of the people knew Kez from school or college, although many didn't seem to know each other. Bodies occupied whatever space they could: stairs, hallways, bathrooms. Standing 5 foot 5, he had never done well in crowds, and even less so when he had to move through them. Nick pushed his way through the crowd, shooting smiles and sorries as he went, occasionally tapping broader backs and shoulders to ask them to make room.