Have you ever felt like the world around you is just spinning?

I know, technically, the world spins. But when it spins around you. Like you're in the center of a whirlpool and everything around you is just spinning.

And spinning.

And spinning.

Well, I was spinning. The whole week I felt like I was spinning.

Lindsay apologized to me. I just smiled. I spun.

Sean asked what was wrong again. I just smiled. I spun.

Spencer asked me out on a date again. I just smiled. I spun.

I smoked every day at lunch with Cory. And for the afternoon, the spinning stopped. My mind stopped spinning. Everyone's voices stopped spinning. The noises stopped spinning.

Every time, I was naively hopeful that maybe it was permanent. Maybe the spinning had stopped for good. And every time, I was stupidly disappointed when the weed wore off, and the spinning returned.

I thought it would get better. It just got worse.

Landon's arm slung around me during sixth period on Friday. His breath fanning across my cheek. "I'm having a party tonight."

Rory overheard—though the word party to Rory is like the word walk to a dog—and naturally began squawking about how her and her friends had been preparing for this party all week. It was Landon's post-Winter Break party. It'd been postponed from last weekend because apparently his parents actually came home for a bit. Seemingly, for once.

"You coming, Al?" he asked under his breath.

My skin crawled and I spun again.

I just nodded.

I felt his nose against my ear. Heard him chuckle. Then I watched him walked away.

He ruined my afternoon stillness. Even weed couldn't cloak Landon's creepiness.

I was spinning again.

When I sat down in seventh, next to Scott, I was grasping for something, anything, to hold onto. "What are you and Tyler doing tonight?"

Scott stared at me, eyes wider than usual. "Uh."

Abort. "Never mind."

Scott nodded and looked back at his paper. That's all the indication I needed to know never to bring that topic up again.

I showered at Lindsay's and insisted on borrowing her clothes for the night. I didn't want to go back home. She didn't complain or question it.

I had finally finished pulling up the leather skirt that Rachel picked out for me with the white crop top Lindsay had put me in. Rachel was outside on the phone with Liam, so it was Linds and I alone in her room.

"So," she started cryptically.

I looked in the mirror, satisfied with my hair, makeup, and outfit, before turning on my heel and reaching for my bag. Looking for either the alcohol I had brought or the eighth of weed I'd bought off Cory.

"Sean's freaking out."

I stopped for a moment before continuing my search. I grumbled, "About what this time?"

Lindsay didn't seem amused. "You, obviously."

I couldn't help but snort, finding the fifth of vodka and pulling it out of my bag with a smile. Lindsay wouldn't want me smoking at her house. "You want to drink or not?"

"Allie," Lindsay said sternly. Apparently, that wasn't the response she was hoping for.

"You sound like Sean," I whined and opened the bottled of vodka. Without any chaser I pushed it to my lips and took down multiple gulps. It burnt. It felt good. I held it out to my best friend. "Your turn."

Lindsay looked at me like I was wild. In the best and worst way. Like I was crazy, but she wanted to be corrupted. That's what I loved about Lindsay. She was oddly innocent but always agile. Kind, but courageous. Small, but fierce. She was everything I wasn't. She was complex.

"You bitch," she whispered, grabbing the vodka out of my hand and taking down a gulp. I just laughed.

"So," I said, "Landon's?"

That's a dumb question, Allie. I heard Tyler's voice in my head and a smile crept onto my lips without my consent. I physically shook my head to get the voice out and the smile off.

It was a dumb question though. Of course we were going to Landon's.

Rachel, Lindsay, and I showed up at his mansion after 10 and we walked in like we owned the place. It was second semester of Senior year now. Younger girls practically bowed their heads seeing us. Guys were afraid to look at us. Well, most guys. Not the football guys, who were in the kitchen when we walked in to get drinks. They immediately started cat calling to us.

Rachel turned and gave them the finger before calling, "Basketball all day, baby," referring to the fact that she was with Liam. And I guess Lindsay with Caleb. And I guess me with Sean, though in a different way.

They booed and Lindsay and I laughed as we poured vodka and soda into three red solo cups.

"Thanks, bitch," Rachel said when I handed her one of the cups.

"Mhm," I said, urgently taking multiple long drinks like I needed it. I didn't though. I'd already had probably four shots at Lindsay's. "I'm assuming the boys are outside?"

Rachel nodded with a shoulder shrug, like she didn't really care. Little liar. I rolled my eyes. "Well then, off we go."

The three of us left the kitchen, much to the dismay of the football players, and we snaked out way through one of the living rooms, heading for the sliding glass door that led to the porch.

My feet were stopped though. I wish the world around me stopped spinning too, but sadly, it didn't. The alcohol wasn't hitting me fast enough.

"Hey," he said, resting the hand that wasn't holding a beer on my arm.

Lindsay, Rachel, and I all made eye contact. I nodded my head at them. "You guys go. I'll catch up."

Rachel offered a small smile before continuing on. Lindsay winked at me, then followed her. Spencer saw this and my jaw clenched. I glared at the back of my winking best friend's auburn head until it disappeared in the crowd. I was going to fucking kill her.

"How are you?" Spencer asked, forcing me to look away from where I last saw Lindsay to meet his gaze.

I just shrugged and took a long drink. This time I really did need it. "You?"

He mimicked me playfully by shrugging as well. I couldn't help but smile a bit in response. "I'd be better if the girl I like would return my texts."

My smile dropped, but my face flushed. I cursed myself internally. Why did my body have to betray me so much? Spencer noticed the heat on my cheeks and the corners of his lips turned up.

He wasn't wrong. I'd been avoiding him and his texts all week to the best of my abilities. After we had sex last Saturday—a moment of weakness for me—I had to reestablish boundaries.

I took another long drink before answering. "She sounds like a bitch."

Spencer frowned and immediately argued, "She's not." After a few beats, his frown calmed, and his hands found my hips. He added, "Just stubborn."

I almost bit my lip, then remembered that would be counterintuitive to me trying to get Spencer away from me. "Isn't that exhausting?"

His eyes were locked on mine with a glassy sheen of longing, but he half-grinned at me and replied truthfully. "Sometimes."

His honesty, the slightly forlorn look in his eye, the surprising lightness of his smile and tone...it almost made me smile and lean into him. Almost.

He could tell I was cracking because he took a step closer to me, the distance between us now minimal. "Most of the time I find it entertaining."

I felt my face put on its mask. A cocky smirk danced on my lips. "Oh, so you like the chase?"

"No," he responded resolutely. Even though he was still wearing his small grin, he looked dejected as his eyes scanned every inch of my face. "I like the girl."

I closed my eyes and shook my head but smiled lightly. "And you say I'm the stubborn one."

"Who said we were talking about you?"

My eyes snapped open and now Spencer was wearing a full-watt smile as his eyes danced. I couldn't help but laugh and it was like the sound of it made Spencer step even closer to me, so our chests were pressed against each other. One hand remained firm on my hip while the other moved to rest on the crevice between my neck and my shoulder. His thumb began inching dangerously close to my collarbone.

Despite the smile still on my lips, my eyes were scolding and I shook my head. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" he asked, his eyes challenging mine while a half smirk played on his lips.

"You know what."

He leaned down so his lips were practically against my ear. "Enlighten me."

I turned my head to look at him. Our noses closer than I would like. Close enough where I could see the three different shades of blue in his eyes. I whispered, "I'm not going home with you tonight."

I watched as the three hues turned to one—a deep, hard, cold navy. "I never asked you to come home with me."

Watching his eyes and his face, it felt like he was moving away from me. Like the inches between our noses felt like feet, then yards, then miles. Yet his hands tightened on my body. Not aggressively. Almost fearfully. Like he could feel the distance growing too.

It snapped me back into the reality that we should be more physically distant from one another. He was too close. He'd been too close for a while. I stepped back, away from Spencer and at first my step didn't fully take because he wouldn't let go. But then he let his hand slip from my neck and hip, until we were just two bodies standing across from one another.

I took a large drink as he ran a hand through his hair. The electricity between us was much more subdued now, thanks to the distance, but it still lingered in the space between us.

"You're a good guy, Spencer," I told him, blessing the heavens above when my voice came out steady and light. "You deserve a good girl."

His eyes landed on mine and they were anything but steady or light. In fact, he looked angry. The bitter tone in his voice confirmed my assumption. "And you aren't?"

I smirked at him. "Do you really need me to answer that?"

"Yes," he hummed darkly. "I do."

I sighed and took another long drink. I was finally starting to feel the effects as the edges of my vision began to blur like a soft vignette.

Spencer shifted his weight and I heard him inhale and exhale heavily. Finally, I said, "Why, if you know what I'm going to say?"

"So I can tell you you're wrong."

My heart sunk into my stomach. The thing was, he was wrong. He just couldn't see that. And no matter what I said, he wasn't going to believe me. It was like a teacher trying to tell their student that their art project didn't pass the assignment. It's not that their art was bad. It just wasn't right.

His opinion of me, his effort toward me—it wasn't bad. It just wasn't right.

I was the wrong answer.

I didn't say any of this though because it would fall on deaf ears. Instead, I smirked harder, patted his chest three times like it was a drum and said, "I'm never wrong. Lighten up, Spence, it's a party."

I could tell he didn't find this funny or charming in the slightest because of the crease that appeared between his eyebrows. I was quick to walk away though. Before he could grab my arm or argue, I became just another body within the crowd.

--

A/N: I know I've been updating A LOT recently. Fingers crossed I can keep up the momentum haha. Thank you all for reading <3 don't forget to vote and comment!!