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"Allison!"

No one called me that but my mother. And Lindsay, on the rare occasion she was trying to get under my skin. Instinctually, I pulled my covers over my head.

"Sweetie, it's three in the afternoon. You know I have a rule against sleeping all day."

I know my Mom's been drunk before—I've witnessed it. But I still wonder all the time if she's ever experienced a truly debilitating hangover. Otherwise why would she make such a stupid rule.

"Allison," she said again, her voice a little harsher as she ripped the covers off my head.

"Okay, I'm getting up," I said, placing my arm over my eyes.

"It's a beautiful day," she said and I heard her rip my curtains open, causing the afternoon sunlight to shine directly into my room. Bitch. When I didn't respond, she continued, "We're taking a welcome gift over to the family that just moved in today at five thirty."

I almost audibly groaned but caught myself. My mom was not a fan of complaining. I'd say she's optimistic to a fault. Her father could be murdered and she'd probably still find a silver lining in it. So I had learned to keep my cynicism to myself when she was around.

"Did you hear me?"

"YES," I answered in annoyance.

"Well then hop on up. I have lunch waiting for you downstairs."

Once I heard her leave and close my door, I rolled over to my bedside table where my phone was. I had been too tired earlier to even check all my text messages from last night. A part of me was always a little worried if I had drunk texted something bad. It's happened before and last night I got way too drunk. It seemed like a valid possibility. But luckily as I scrolled through my messages, nothing seemed catastrophic. At least I was too preoccupied with Spencer to text anything stupid.

I snorted. Silver lining. After all, I am my mother's daughter. 


From: Mom

Are you coming home tonight?


From: Lindsay

Did you go home with Spencer??


From: Sean

Yo where you at. We're upstairs in Landon's room smoking. Come up.


I first responded to one of my best friends Lindsay Arnold, and then my closest guy friend Sean Connolly.


To: Lindsay

Unfortunately.


To: Sean

Fuuuuck I had already left the party by then.


I knew I would have to apologize to my mom when I went downstairs for not answering her text. Responding to her texts was how I really got away with her not enforcing a curfew. Not that she could really push any consequences on me anyway. Other than maybe waking me up really early. That would suck.

I got out of bed, went to the bathroom, phone in hand, and was pleased when my reflection in the mirror didn't look like a complete corpse. WASS. It always works.

I began my daily routine of brushing my teeth, washing my face, and putting on some makeup when Sean texted me back.


From: Sean

Did you say hi to Spencer for me.


To: Sean

Fuck you.

From: Sean

Drunk you was alllll over him last night.


To: Sean

Well drunk me got a little TOO drunk and made some bad decisions.


From: Sean

It could be worse. At least you've already hooked up with him and it's kinda a thing.


To: Sean

No, that's WHY it's worse. I think he's starting to think it could be something more.


From: Sean

Ah, I see. Well, what're you doing tonight?


To: Sean

I'm not going to Blake's if that's what you're asking.


From: Sean

Haha no, Al. Brian, Chad and I were planning on staying in and playing CoD. We were thinking we might go but we don't have to. Wanna come kick it?


I threw my head back, thanking God in my head for this text message. Hanging out with them gave met the perfect excuse for Spencer as to why I wasn't going to Blake Adams's little party tonight. The only thing left was whether or not Sean could possibly pick me up before six. The thought of going over to our new neighbor's house with my mom and a welcome gift—very likely my Mom's lasagna—made my stomach turn.


To: Sean

Yessss please. Is there any way you could pick me up around 5 though? My car is still getting fixed.


From: Sean

Yeah, for sure!


Now I thanked God out loud.


~ ~ ~


I bounded down the staircase around five when Sean texted me that he was here. I had come downstairs earlier to eat the chicken sandwich Mom had made for me—and to apologize about not answering her text—but I went back upstairs soon after to finish my makeup and straighten my hair. I always felt better when it was straightened, although it wasn't like I was trying to impress anyone.

Well, okay, Chad Erickson was hot. But he's one of Sean's best friends. I would never do that. The last thing I would ever want is for something to get in the way of my friendship with Sean.

Sean and I had math class together freshmen year and ever since then we've been tight. We got into more trouble in that class than I have in my entire high school career thus far. Our math teacher, Ms. Shrick, still glares at me when she sees me in the hallway. Even after two solid years. She was just one of those people where she was too sensitive to not fuck with. She brought it upon herself, in our humble opinions.

But, despite the fact that I would never hook up with Chad, it didn't hurt to look good. My mom noticed I had done myself up a little extra when I entered the kitchen. She had figured out over the years that I only wore eye shadow and bronzer when I was going out.

She gave me a displeased look as she slipped an oven mitt over her hand. "And where do you think you're going?"

"Okay," I started, setting my purse on the kitchen island counter. I had prepared my excuse. "I have to go see Lindsay. She got fucked over—"

My mom's hand stopped just as she was pulling out the lasagna and she snapped her head towards me. Swearing wasn't allowed. I should've known not to use any swear words while I was rehearsing it in my head.

I corrected myself with a genuinely regretful head tilt to the side. It's what she always did when she was apologetic or pitying. "Screwed over by a boy she was dating."

Total lie. Lindsay wasn't even talking to a guy at the moment.

My mom had now successfully removed the lasagna from the oven and placed it on the stovetop. She hadn't said a word.

"Mom, this is my best friend."

She diligently took off her oven mitt and finally looked at me. I knew that look. It was the look she always had on when she was just on the verge of giving in.

"It's important."

She let out a sigh and tilted her head. That's when I knew I had her. "Alright. Go be a good friend."

I smiled brightly at her and initiated a large hug, which always made her happy.

"Give Linds my best."

"I will," I responded and picked my purse up off the island. "I'll talk to you later."

She yelled goodbye as I closed the door behind me. As always I had to lock it, because my paranoid mother apparently thinks our middle-class suburban town was the next target for a crime. She watched too many true crime documentaries.

I could hear Sean's car in my driveway before I could even see it. He had an old—no, ancient—Jeep that made noises no car should ever make. It had broken down multiple times, but Sean refused to get rid of it. He claimed it had "character" and that everyone "just doesn't understand." I, like all his friends, eventually gave up trying to convince him to get a new car. It was a fight I was never going to win.

Sean looked up from his phone as I opened the squeaky passenger door. He grinned boyishly at me. "'Sup loser."

"Not much, weirdo," I responded casually, shaking the entire car as I slammed the door shut. If you didn't slam it, it wouldn't completely close.

Sean put the car into reverse and as he backed out of my driveway. The house across the street came into view. The U-Haul trucks were gone now, but there was a large, silver Suburban parked in their driveway. Its trunk was completely open, packed tight with various small furniture items.

And sure enough, standing right in front of the trunk, there he was. Responding to the unmissable roar of the Jeep, my new neighbor faced the road. Faced us. Faced me—or at least it felt like it since my seat was the closest one to his driveway.

I couldn't look away from him. I knew that it was weird to stare at someone like that. But he was looking at me too so...

I mean that part of the equation wasn't uncommon. I was used to guys staring at me. Just about any guy would be willing to hook up with me if I gave them the time of day.

Not bragging. Just the truth.

Normally though, it would be easy for me to look away. I'd turn my head, brush my blonde hair behind my shoulder, and either scowl if I was playing hard to get, or flash them a lust-filled look and hungry smirk if I was going in for the kill.

Even if I wasn't interested in the guy staring at me, I wanted everyone to know that I was a chase. I was something to run after, fight for, and you were damn lucky to win.

But my hair-flip-look-away routine wasn't working this time. For once, I also couldn't look away—and I've had way more attractive guys stare at me before. It was like something outside of myself was controlling my eyes, even though my mind was screaming at me to stop.

The only reason I finally did snap out of it was because I heard Sean's voice.

"Since when do you have new neighbors?" he asked, now accelerating down the street.

I tucked my hair behind my ear, trying to shake the odd feeling our eye contact had given me. I managed to mumble, "Since this morning I guess."

"You guess?" Sean asked, being annoying and picking apart every word. I swear, sometimes he was like a fucking parrot.

"I mean they weren't here yesterday," I shot back with an eye roll.

He grinned and I fiddled with the radio, turning on our favorite rap/hip-hop station. I couldn't tell if Sean was being serious or still trying to push my buttons when he said, "So no to Blake's tonight?"

"Hell no," I grunted.

"Because of Spencer?" Confirmed—he was still trying to be an asshole.

"Not just that," I countered with a scoff that was a little too aggressive. He raised his eyebrows, knowing he'd succeeded in his immature quest to rile me up. "I'm just not really in the mood to socialize tonight."

"Mhm, yeah, that's what it is."

I slapped Sean on the arm and he scrunched his face, like I had actually hurt him. His eyes were dancing with playfulness though.

"Okay, okay," he said, shaking his head as he put on his blinker. "For real, I was fucking with you. I don't really want to go to Blake's tonight either."

"It's going to be the same shit anyway. Everyone gets too drunk and starts drama for no damn reason."

Sean just laughed in agreement.

"Where's Brian and Chad?" I asked, looking towards the empty backseats.

"They just stayed at my house," Sean replied, turning onto his street.

"Well then thanks for picking me up, Seany," I said sweetly and slapped his shoulder again, but this time it was out of affection.

It was really was nice of him to pick me up though. Our houses were pretty close. It was only about a ten-minute walk, so before either of us could drive we would just walk to each other. But now that we had the luxury of driving, walking seemed like a death sentence.

In a matter of minutes, I was entering the Connolly house, a place that sometimes felt like a second home. I followed Sean down the familiar staircase to their finished basement turned rec room.

"Where's Mama and Papa Con?" I asked. I'd become good friends with Sean's parents. It annoyed the hell out of Sean when I would disappear to talk to his mom for an hour in the kitchen instead of hanging out with him.

"Sometimes I think you come over just so you can hang out with them," he grumbled one time.

"Duh, that's the only reason I'm friends with you," I had said back to him, playfully slapping his back. He had given me a hard shove in return.

Now, Sean didn't even look back at me as he trotted down the staircase and said, "They had to go to some afternoon work event thing for my dad. They'll be back later." Then he glanced back at me crossly. Waiting for my response.

"Had I known that I wouldn't have come over until later," I said through a grin.

"You can walk home," he responded flatly, but I knew he was playing by the soft twinkle in his eye.

I laughed and jumped off the last staircase onto his back, my arms wrapping around his neck for just a second before sliding off him to stand steadily on my own to feet with my hands resting gently against his back.

He walked away from me without a word, continuing our petty, fake argument about me liking his parents more than him.

I couldn't help but smile wider. "Oh, relax, Connolly."

I loved the Connolly's finished basement. Lisa or Mama Con, Sean's mother, told me how they'd remodeled it back when Sean was 10 to make it look like an actual room in the house with heating and insolation. Sean wanted it to be his room, but Lisa and James, his dad, also known as Papa Con, got him off their back by letting him make it into a recreation room. And he took full advantage of that.

On one side of the room was a large TV with a couch and two of the most comfortable reclining chairs I'd ever sat in. On the ground next to the TV stand was around twenty—maybe more—video games, piled up haphazardly. Somewhere around the couch and chairs were two moveable bedside tables—one navy blue, which was Sean's when he was in elementary school. The other was a deep mahogany—an extra that Sean's parents had bought on accident when decorating their own room. We used them as portable coffee tables.

On the other side of the room was a ping pong table, a large cabinet that was full of all kinds of shit—Ping-Pong balls and paddles, snacks, a deck of cards, probably a hoodie that someone had left behind, red solo cups, a bong, a pipe, probably a bag of weed and a bottle of liquor on the top shelf.

"Only top shelf, baby," Sean would always say to me when I asked for shots as he pulled the lowest quality liquor from the top shelf of this cabinet. Jose Cuervo, Burnetts, Jim Bean, Smirnoff, the list—unfortunately—goes on...

"Just because it's on a top-shelf doesn't mean it's top shelf, Seany," I would always reply.

"Shh," he'd say to me with an innocent smirk on his lips. "Don't expose my secret, Carson."

Next to the cabinet was a regular sized refrigerator, fully stocked with Coca Cola, Mountain Dew, always six Diet Cokes—for me—and beer. Obviously Sean wasn't twenty-one, but his older brother Steven was.

Steven had his own apartment and went to our county's community college, so he was always close by. He bought Sean beer and liquor all the time. Sometimes he'd get it when Sean didn't even ask for it. He'd bring over a case of Coors Light that he decided to pick up while he was getting himself a six-pack of IPA.

I'd never say it to Sean, but Steven was kind of that kid that everyone knew as a "fuck up." He never seemed to try at anything or care about his future in any way. He always meant well, but I think he never had a very good self-esteem. It probably didn't help that Sean was practically the golden boy—attractive, bright, sociable, Treasurer of Student Council, Varsity Basketball player by his junior year. Pretty much the opposite of Steven. Steven was always nice though and, I mean, I can't complain too much because he was my main source of alcohol.

Of course, Sean's best friends were here. Brian Daniels was on one of the reclining chairs with an Xbox remote in his hand. He had his bong sitting conveniently next to him on the navy bedside table. Chad, sitting on one of the couches, had his phone in his hand, but had clearly stopped what he was doing to look between Sean and I as Sean collapsed into the unoccupied reclining chair.

"What's up, Allie," Chad said, setting his phone down on his thigh.

God, he was handsome. Sometimes I caught myself, well...getting a little carried away when I looked at him, if you know what I mean.

I swallowed and said, "Not much, you?"

He shrugged with a gesture at the scene in front of him as if to say, 'This. Nothing new.'

I turned to Brian, whose eyes were pink and a little squinty. I knew he had already smoked the second Sean and I came into the rec room just because of the smell. To be honest, the room always smelled a little like weed. It was basically embedded into the furniture's fabric at this point. But I could tell how recent they had smoked by how pungent the smell was. I figured he must've hit the bong just before we had arrived.

Brian only gave me a loose smile and a head nod of acknowledgement before turning back to his game. Sean said something to Brian and I took this time to walk over to the fridge to get a Diet Coke. At the sound of the fridge door opening, I heard Brian yell, "Yo, Carson, will you grab me a beer?"

"Me too," Sean chimed in after.

I looked back at Chad, who was already looking at me. "Want one?"

"Only if you have one," he replied. Smooth.

I exhaled loudly enough for only me—and maybe Chad—to hear and grabbed four beers out of the refrigerator, strategically balancing them. My stomach wasn't sure if drinking a beer was a good idea yet, but it was a Saturday afternoon and it wasn't like I was going anywhere. And there was a shit ton of beer in the fridge—probably two or three cases. So why not, right?

I handed two beers to Sean, one for him and one for Brian, whose hands were occupied, and then brought Chad's over to him. I sat down on the couch next to him and we both cracked open the tabs.

Eyes still focused on the video game, Brian said to me, "So no to Blake's tonight?"

I could tell there was a hint of teasing in his tone. Like Sean, he had been at Landon Bishop's party last night. So he had seen drunk me, apparently all over Spencer.

I took a long, dramatic sip of beer, glaring at Brian even though he was focused on the TV screen. "Only because I don't feel like partying tonight," I snapped finally.

He leaned away from me, pretending to be startled like I had been mean to him. "Damn, Carson, I was just asking."

"I mean, you got to give him some leeway," Chad said and I now turned to stare into those beautiful blue eyes. "You were basically attacking Spencer."

"You were there?" I couldn't stop my jaw from dropping.

Chad was there. I thought Sean had said he couldn't go because of a family get together or something. It wasn't necessarily that I would've behaved differently had Chad been there. But it was still embarrassing

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