The poles gleamed and music flowed out of speakers in the ceiling. I looked around, completely stricken. I was 17 and had no idea what to do. I was here on a day between two of my final Year 12 exams — a pimply redhead with a plethora of freckles and skin so white it was practically translucent. This was a long way from the exam room, where I had been writing essays only the day before. The other girls in my group were undressing and climbing onto the different stages.