As Nisha spins the bottle one last time, she does a dance that's more wriggling in her seat than anything approaching actual dancing. But then the bottle stops. And so does her dancing. Nisha stares at Archie, a deer in the headlights, smile frozen. Okay. Okay. Maybe she can just ... fall on him, too. Or discuss and rate their kiss conquests-- fuck, no. That's a terrible idea.

She inhales, like she's about to say something. Nods her head in the direction of the closet. And just kind of makes a squeaking noise. Like a balloon asking a question.