Where do we go from here? [antikvár]

PARTY LINES I' "I AM NOT AT ALL SURE," said Chelsea Gee, piling her chestnut curls into a knot on the top of her head, "that this is such a good idea." "The hair?" queried Laura, peering over her shoulder into the mirror of the ladies' room of Gee Whiz, the restaurant owned by Chelsea's dad, and applying her third layer of Pink Persuasion lip gloss. "I think it looks cool." "Not the hair," corrected Chelsea, spritzing it with spray gel. "Tonight. Here. With them." She jerked her head towards the restaurant door, from behind which came a peal of high-pitched laughter, followed by the chir\k of glasses. Chelsea winced. "I should have known it would be a disaster," she said. "We should have gone straight to the disco - it's all your fault." "Mine?" expostulated Laura. "How do you make that out?" "It was you who went all gushy when my mum suggested that we all had supper here before going to The Stomping Ground," complained Chelsea. "What was it? -'Oh briUiant, Mrs Gee, that would be so cool.'" Another burst of laughter resonated from the restaurant. "Cool indeed," muttered Chelsea. "Anything that involves my mother, a gang of her friends and several bottles of red wine has the potential to be a disaster." "1 didn't know it was going to be a parents-come-too thing, did 1?" reasoned Laura. "And anyway, we're escaping to The Stomping Ground in a couple of hours. It won't be so bad." "Not for you, maybe - at least your mother is normal, and not likely to make a total idiot of herself." I: