A/N: I know this chapter is a little slower / more about character defining and development. I hope you still enjoy!

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I got way more drunk than I intended to. Truthfully it wasn't even that I drank that much. What really messed me up was the bowl Brian convinced me to smoke with him, Chad, and Mikey Feller, Whitewood High's resident drug dealer.

A predictable crowd showed up at Sean's throughout the night—mostly Brian's stoner friends and some other guys Sean knew from the Varsity Basketball team. 

At this point, I was used to being the only girl in the room. Aside from hanging out with Lindsay and Rachel, I sometimes preferred being around guys instead of girls—as long as I wasn't dealing with boys trying to hit on me every five seconds. But that was one of the many reasons I loved being at Sean's house. There was an unspoken rule that I was not to be fucked with here. 

Talk to me as a person, not a piece of meat, and treat me with respect. Otherwise, get the fuck out.

About a year and a half ago, Sean threw this guy named Jacob out after he wouldn't stop bothering me, pressuring me, touching me...no matter how many times I moved away or asked him to stop.

"What's the big deal," I remember him saying as his hand moved from my knee up my thigh, even after I'd pushed it away several times. We were on the same couch I was sitting on now and I remember the distinct smell of whiskey as he moved closer to me. "It's just sex. And you fuck everyone."

"Don't."

I don't even remember saying it or hearing it come out of my mouth. But clearly it was loud enough to catch Brian's attention, who was chatting with a group of guys a few feet away.

It seemed like only seconds passed, but it had to have been longer, as Brian confronted Jacob, prompting Sean to run over asking, "What the fuck was going on?"

It all happened so fast. I was tipsy, so that might've played a part. But I specifically remember Sean's fist colliding with Jacob's nose.

Brian quickly pulled Sean away before he could get another swing in. Now Chad was there too.

"Get him the fuck out of my house," Sean bellowed in a voice I'd never heard before. It held pure rage, but I could hear a hint of desperation, helplessness. 

My heart physically hurt as I pressed my hand against it, trying to focus on my breath. He just punched a guy because I couldn't take care of my goddamn self. He was the most incredible friend, and here I was—hurting him. Literally.

Brian continued to restrain Sean as Chad pushed Jacob up the staircase.

Maybe that was how the unspoken rule came about. Cross the line, get punched in the face.

"Al." I still remember the way Sean looked—his blonde hair ruffled from the altercation with Jacob and his chestnut eyes, holding so much concern as he squatted in front of me, scanning my face intently. "Are you okay?"

I was shaking, but I rolled my shoulders back and sat up straight, planting a careless smile on my lips. "I'm fine, Sean. No need to be dramatic and go around punching people."

A flash of hurt crossed him that made my stomach flip to the point of nausea. God, I didn't deserve him, as a person or a friend. He just punched a guy in the face and I couldn't even muster up a genuine thank you.

"I mean," I started.

Sixteen year old me was struggling, frustrated, overwhelmed. Trying to hold it together. And failing. Miserably.

At the time, I'd begun to let my guard down some with Sean. He and Lindsay were the two people I could, kind of, break down in front of. But at that moment, I just couldn't give in. I couldn't let go. Maybe it was all the people standing around, watching us. Or the fact I could still feel Jacob's unwanted touch on my inner thigh as I squeezed my legs together.

"I know," Sean said with a gentle smile as he placed both his hands on my cheeks. "It's okay."

The fact that, somehow, he knew I couldn't say what I really wanted to in that moment made me feel safe...yet weak. How could he know what I was thinking and feeling so easily? 

And could other people see through me so easily too.

After that night, things changed. I took back control.

I was no longer an easy slut. I was a slutty bitch.

Touch my inner thigh? You'll get a stinging cheek.

Call me names? I'll tear you apart, break you down, humiliate you.

But Sean's house was the one place that I knew, especially after that night, I didn't have to worry about any of that. At the Connolly's, I was just Allie. 

Fun, sarcastic, playful, realistic, stubborn, independent Allie. Not Whitewood's slut. Not someone to gossip about.

Just Allie.

So I enjoyed my evening, tipsy and high, while talking to Chad, who was also very crossed. Our conversation topics were a wild range, from what was the best fast food place to if we believed in God. 

The time passed quickly and before I knew it, I was handing Chad back a cashed bowl when my phone started vibrating in my pocket. Pulling it out, I read 11:32pm on the screen, just above:

INCOMING CALL: LINDSAY ARNOLD

"Are you still at Sean's," she drunkenly slurred the second I answered the phone.

"Yeah," I replied, hoping my voice sounded steady as I felt the marijuana begin to take over.

I had invited Lindsay over earlier but she said she was going to Blake's to hang out with Austin McGuire, a junior who she's had a crush on for over a year now. And despite Lindsay being one of the sweetest, most bubbly people I knew, she was often horrible when it came to putting herself out there with guys she liked. She was fine 99 percent of the time around guys. But the second she had a crush on them, she would clam up and become this foreign, socially awkward Lindsay.

"Rachel's driving me home and we wanted to see if you needed a ride."

Rachel Matheson, our other best friend, started out as Lindsay's "project." Rachel was drop-dead gorgeous, but kept to herself.

Until Lindsay came along.

Most people thought Rachel was a huge bitch, which wasn't entirely wrong. She had built up a very, very large concrete wall. I was still trying to break it down, and we'd been friends for over two years. 

Still, Lindsay practically forced her to be our friend and once Rachel realized that she was never going to get Lindsay off her back, she finally just let the friendship happen.

"Actually, yeah," I replied.

It was getting late and I was getting tired. And the more I hung out with Chad the more I wanted to hook up with him. And I really wanted to avoid that situation at all costs, even though every inch of my body was telling me otherwise.

I felt Chad's eyes on me and made sure to stare at my hands. If I looked at him, my mouth would likely betray me and I would probably tell Lindsay that I was staying.

"It's only 11:30, shouldn't you still be at Blake's?"

"I left," Lindsay snipped, or tried to. Her consonants still blurred together with the vowels.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes. No. Rory's a bitch."

"I don't know why you're surprised," I heard the faint voice of Rachel in the background.

Fucking Rory Prescott.

She was a senior like us. And since the first day of school freshman year, she flirted with literally everyone. But that was her personality, apparently.

Her personality was just not my vibe. She was overly emotional and a try-hard, at least in my opinion. We actually looked surprisingly similar—blonde hair, green eyes—which probably contributed to why we rivaled so much. I always got the sense she felt threatened by me, which was laughable and a little pathetic.

As seniors, we had both established ourselves as two of the most, if not the most, popular girls in the senior class. We had different roles, though, and we played them well.

She was the Queen. I was the Slut.

At least, that's how people saw us.

I already knew the answer when I asked, "So she was all over Austin? 

"Yes," Lindsay garbled. "I just don't understand why she has to have everything and everyone..."

Lindsay started ranting and after about five seconds I interrupted her. "Tell me everything in the car. How far away are you guys?"

I felt Chad lean back into the sofa next to me. My mind had to force my body not to lean back with him. 

I shut my eyes and heard Rachel's muffled voice. Then Lindsay said, "Like ten minutes."

"See you then."

"Love you!" Lindsay yelled and I muttered a "love you too" before ending the call.

"You're going?" Chad asked and I was a little disappointed that there was no emotion in his voice.

"Lindsay's wasted. And upset," I replied.

He nodded slowly and when the awkward silence settled in, I stood up. Even though they were ten minutes away, I knew I still had to convince Sean to let me leave, which would take about ten minutes in and of itself.

"I'll see you around," I said to Chad, not even looking at him as I walked towards Sean, Brian, and some guys on the Varsity Basketball team.

Just as I had expected, I argued with Sean to let me leave for about six minutes. He yelled, begged, bartered, whined, told me he had numerous couches or the guest room I could use to sleep.

It was hard to stand my ground because I did want to stay. I'd actually been enjoying myself. But I knew I had to go. Lindsay was clearly upset and I had to go be with her, because God knows Rachel was the worst comforter in the world.

Sean finally gave in just when Lindsay texted me saying that they were pulling up. I waved goodbye to everyone as I headed up the stairs and made my way through the Connolly's house.

When I got outside and hopped into Rachel's car, I almost turned around and went back in.

Lindsay was crying now and Rachel gave me a, please deal with this, face. Extreme emotions were probably Rachel's biggest pet peeve, which naturally made Lindsay one of her biggest pet peeves.

Weirdest friendship. But together, we worked.

I told Rachel to drive us back to Lindsay's place. My parents knew I drank, but they definitely didn't know to what extent, and I wanted to keep it that way.

After any night out, we almost always went back to Lindsay's house, mostly because her room was on the bottom floor and had its own private door from an open patio, which made it crazy easy to sneak in and out. Plus, Lindsay's parents told her that they didn't care if she drank. Only that they wouldn't tolerate drinking and driving, and if she ever felt unsafe or didn't have a ride, she could call them. So Lindsay's house was our safest bet.

The whole ride back Lindsay explained the same story over and over again. Which was literally just that Austin and Rory were together the whole time, talking and touching. That was really it.

I reminded Lindsay that the chances of them hooking up were slim, since Rory was the biggest tease on the planet. But Lindsay was drunk and sad. I could've told her Austin wanted to marry her and she would still be crying about the night.

When we finally got back to Lindsay's, I thanked Rachel and helped Lindsay out of the car.

"Hey, call me if you need anything," Rachel said, although not very convincingly, before speeding away.

I helped Lindsay take off her makeup, put on her pajamas, and then tucked her into bed. She was asleep within minutes and I stole some of her clothes to sleep in before crawling into bed next to her.

Because I had been talking to Chad the whole night—and was a little too high to multitask—I hadn't read through my texts. I knew Spencer tried to call me once but, turns out, he also texted me four times.

Fantasic.

At 8:00:

Are you going to Blake's?

8:21:

I can give you a ride if you need one.

10:39:

Are you coming?

And the one that I had most recently gotten:

11:47

What;re you doing later ?

I ignored them all and fell fast asleep beside my best friend.