I started the night somewhat sober.

But here we are, no less than three hours later, and I am nearly blacked out. It's easy this way, I can barely think or feel when I am in this state. The disconnection from reality is something I want, rather than something to avoid. Plus no one at a party is really cognizant enough themselves to tell you to stop drinking.

"To health, happiness, and good fortune!" Justin cheers, lifting another shot glass of flavored vodka in the air and tossing it back. Lars and I do the same, the once burning liquid sliding down my throat with a smooth sense of comfort.

"I'm so fucking drunk dude." I shout over the crowd and the music in the lacrosse house. They both nod in agreement.

"And I've got a big test to study for tomorrow," Lars groans. "What the fuck is wrong with me."

"Better to forget about it then, looks like we're blacking out tonight bitch!" Justin shrieks, grabbing me in a rough, drunken hug and squeezing. I squeeze back, cheering and laughing.

"Jourdan!" I hear my name behind me, and I turn, smiling when I see Savannah. She's dressed in a corset top and high-waisted jeans, her five seven height boosted by a pair of heels. Her arms pull me into a sloppy hug instantly.

"Hi!" I cry drunkenly, my voice a bit high pitched. "How are you?"

"Good," she sighs, her thick lashes fluttering as she tosses her long hair over one shoulder. "I think I'm about to leave actually."

"As you should," I hear a snide comment from behind us and wince. I already know it's Lars. If ever there were a mystery to be solved, it would be the mystery of why Lars Morgan, one of the nicest guys I know, hates Savannah Hayes. Don't get me wrong, she hates him right back, telling me he's a dick and she doesn't even want to dignify his presence with their backstory.

"I should've known," Savannah smirks, glaring over my shoulder now and I turn slowly, Justin's eyes wide. He too is just as concerned as I am. The few times we've witnessed them interact; it hasn't been pretty.

"Just when I thought this night couldn't get any worse," Lars shakes his head, crossing his arms tightly across his chest, muscles flexing as he tightens his hands into fists. I don't often see Lars angry, but when I do, I'm reminded of how menacing his stature can be. Since he's on the hockey team he's a massive wall of a dude, but he never uses it to his advantage unless he's on the ice or in situations like this one.

"What's wrong?" Savannah raises a perfectly arched eyebrow. "Did you burn a cake today baker boy?"

"Fuck you," Lars seethes, stepping closer and Justin reaches out to pat his shoulder, reminding him now is not the time.

"Awe," Savannah pretends to pout, glancing to me with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I think I hit a nerve."

"Come on guys," Justin says weakly. "There's no need for this."

"There wouldn't be if you weren't such a bitch." Lars agrees, nodding with Justin. "Looks like someone forgot to take their crazy pills this morning."

Savannah's lips turn, pressed together in a thin line as she frowns. I can tell he's struck a nerve too. One based in some nasty rumors that started about Savannah our sophomore year. I am one of the few people who know the truth, something she trusted me with after one too many margaritas at Taco Junkie when we were studying for midterms last year.

"Suck my dick you fucking pussy." She hisses and he grins.

"Like I said," he advances on her, getting close as she stands her ground. "Bite me."

"I'd rather eat your shitty food, Lawrence." She retorts.

"You'd be so lucky." He scoffs. "I'd never cook for someone without taste."

She laughs now, cocking her head back, almost like she's challenging him to try again. But he doesn't, and only shakes his head before moving around her and stalking out of the kitchen.

"Holy shit," Justin mutters, and I nod, sighing a bit from relief. I was way too drunk to be part of something that angry and confrontational.

"Sorry about that," Savannah sighs, turning back to us now, all the malice from before vanished from her face. "He makes me so mad. Just the sight of him."

"I really wish you'd spill the beans on why you two hate each other so much." Justin comments. "He won't say a thing about it either."

"Good." Savannah nods curtly. "Because he wouldn't tell you the fucking truth."

"I don't understand," I admit slowly, both because I genuinely didn't, and that last shot is starting to hit.

"I'll tell you one day," she sighs. "But for now, I'm going home."

I give her a hug again before she waves to Justin and saunters back into the crowd. There's a beat of silence as Justin and I decompress, shaking our heads and laughing a bit.

"Let's go dance!" I say and he makes a noise of agreement, following me through the crowded kitchen as I turn around. We're almost out of the packed room when I bump into someone, stepping back and making to apologize but then I realize who it is.

"Noah!" I exclaim and he grins when he sees me, both of us hugging each other briefly before he greats Justin.

Noah Trainer is your average Boulder guy. Low-hanging skinny jeans, an over-sized flannel and a rolled beanie that is never not on his head, covering his mop of unruly sandy brown waves. He skateboards, is a proud member of Kappa Sig and spends most of his time doing any number of drugs. Everything from weed to ecstasy and certainly anything in between.

"What's good?" Justin asks and Noah shrugs.

"Just chillin', ya know, the usual," he says with a smirk, eyeing my dress as his gaze drifts lower than my eyeline.

"By, the usual, do you mean?" I raise my eyebrows, indicating that I was also interested in whatever it was he was doing. And it was usually coke.

"Yeah, I got the goods." He tells me, then he dips his head down to my ear. "You're welcome to come upstairs with me real' quick."

I nod, turning to Justin who rolls his eyes heavily.

"Jourdan," He sighs, almost exasperated. "Just come find me when you're done, okay?"

"Yeah." I smile and he returns it, even though I can tell he's not happy with this. He never has been but what's he supposed to do? Order me to suck it up and deal with the trauma wreaking havoc on my mind and body in a healthy way? Nope, it's not that simple.

"And be safe." He shakes a finger at me, stepping around us and nodding his head to Noah as he moves through the crowd towards the dance floor.

"So, bathroom break?" I ask Noah, giggling and he nods.

"Hell yes, come on beautiful." He grins, pulling me close and pushing us through the throngs of drunken college students crowding the hallway. We shove our way up the staircase in the main entry way, weaving in between a few people that have decided the stairs are a good place to make out. Then he's opening the door to a small powder room, shutting it as soon as we're inside, muffling the sounds of the party below us now.

"You look fucking hot tonight," Noah says, leaning in close and brushing his lips against my cheek. I giggle, turning my head slightly because I wasn't really interested in making out with him right now. "Then again, you always do."

"Have you been doing this coke?" I ask softly, a slight tremor in my heart managing to seep through the fog that alcohol has cast over my brain. The memory of Miles floating towards me and reminding me of the very real consequences of drug use. 

Noah nods and I wrap my arms around his neck and leaning in close too, though still not letting him lock his mouth with mine. He's the kind of guy that won't make me feel guilty when I flirt harmlessly, Noah likes the attention without the commitment. 

It's almost ironic, and I know why Justin gets so mad at me for partying like this. He always reminds me of what happened to Miles, but what he doesn't get is that I don't need a reminder. In fact, I escape like this because I need to forget instead. To not feel so guilty, to try and stop blaming myself for what happened. 

Especially after my conversation with Ryder Thursday night, when I'd almost shared too much, the confusion and sorrow swirling around inside me need relief. 

"Alright baby." He steps back a bit, tripping as he sits down on the closed toilet lid and pulls me to stand in between his legs. He leans over the counter next to us, setting his phone down face up and pulling a small bag from his pocket along with a rolled dollar bill.

"You wanna do a line off me?" I ask and he grins up at me while he empties a bit of the white powder onto his phone.

"Of course," He nods and I sit on his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Alright, lay back a bit more." He supports my waist with his arm as I lean farther away and giggle when he scoops a bit of the coke up with his credit card, making a line on my right breast.

"I feel like Margot Robbie in The Wolf of Wallstreet." I muse and he grins up at me.

"Am I the little engine that could then?" He jokes and I nod, he leaves the dollar bill with his credit card and phone on the sink, pressing one finger to his left nostril and leaning down.

"I think I can, I think I can . . ." He says and I laugh gasping as he snorts the powder off me and coughs.

"Holy fuck." He chokes and I sit up a bit, looking down at him as a lazy smile spreads slowly across his face.

"You liked that?" I ask and he nods, leaning his face back down to lick the residue off me and I shriek with laughter at the sensation, holding his head as he laughs too.

Then suddenly, my laughter turns into a shrill scream as the door to the powder room flies open with a deafening bang as it slams against the wall. I sit up, gasping as I look to the doorway where Justin, Kai, who is one of the guys that lives in the lacrosse house, and Ryder are all standing.

Justin's arms are crossed tightly over his chest as he takes in the scene, acting like a disapproving father figure. Kai and Ryder are obviously drunk and have been dragged up here by Justin. Though Ryder's easy smile fades as his eyes train on Noah and I.

"What the fuck dudes?" Noah scoffs, standing and easing me off his lap as I get myself upright too.

"Justin." I grumble, glaring straight at him and he gives me a pointed look.

"Party time is over Jordy," he says simply. "Everyone wants to go home, and I didn't want to leave without you."

"I'm with Noah," I say through gritted teeth. "It's fine."

"No, come on babe, we're taking you home." Justin just shakes his head, turning and motioning for me to follow him. Noah and I reluctantly step out into the noisy hallway with them.

"It's okay if you go with them." Noah says, his head dipped down to my ear again and I turn, looking up at him.

"Are you sure?" I ask softly, wrapping my arms around his neck again to pull myself closer. "We were having fun."

"Yeah, I don't know when I'm leaving," He offers, brushing a few strands of hair off my cheek with his thumb before continuing. "And I want you getting home safe."

"Come on." I feel a pair of hands on my shoulders, tugging me back and I shrug Justin off me. Noah takes this opportunity to duck away, waving to us as he slinks down the stairs and back into the shrinking crowd of the party.

"Stop it." I almost growl, whipping around and he laughs.

"Ooo, someone's feeling a bit angsty."

"You're being a buzz kill." I complain and Kai snorts lightly.

"She's not wrong." He comments and Justin turns his irritated expression to Kai now who holds his hands up defensively, backing up a bit as Justin advances.

"You're not helping."

"I'll help." I hear Ryder say and then suddenly I am being lifted, without my permission, into his arms as he scoops me up easily. My mouth opens, as if to protest, but when I see his lop-sided grin, I don't.

"You don't have to carry me." I sigh, wriggling around a bit as he starts down the staircase with me.

"Yes, I do, someone had to round you up," he says. "But I don't mind."

Ryder smells good, like expensive cologne and freshly washed sheets. His arms around me, carrying me out the front door as our friend group leaves the party to wait for our Uber's, remind me of the other night. Remind me of how safe I feel when I'm this close.

"You're so strong." I comment, draping my left arm around his shoulder and pressing the other one against his built chest.

"Hmm, I think it's probably because I work out." He replies and I giggle.

"Are we all going back to your guys' house?" I ask and he nods.

"Definitely," He laughs. "You are all too drunk to find your own way home."

"Hey!" I protest. "You're drunk too."

"I never said I wasn't." He adds and we both laugh together. Then he's lifting me into a black sedan, climbing in beside me as Bex slides in next to us and Justin gets in the front seat. I settle into the car seat, getting comfortable as I lean against Ryder again, not quite ready to have him let me go.

~

Somehow, the guys manage to get Bex, Andee and myself into their apartment. The three of us eventually slump together on one of their couches while they all go off to their respective rooms; it's nearly 3 am by now and the night has caught up with all of us.

"Come on sleepy head." My eyes had just begun to drift shut when I feel the couch move, Tristan having walked over to get Andee. She mumbles something sleepily to him as he helps her up, and they make their way out of the living room. Bex groans beside me trying to stretch out but the couch is really only big enough for one person to sleep on.

"I'm gonna get some water." I murmur, sliding off the couch slowly and feeling my way through the dimly lit living room into the kitchen. I fumble around in a couple of the cabinets, finally finding the glasses and fill one with water from the fridge.

I'm standing by the kitchen island, leaning against it when a voice startles me.

"You wanna come upstairs with me again?"

I gasp, nearly dropping the glass but then I recognize the tall, curly-headed silhouette standing in the entry way to the kitchen.

"I can stay on the couch." I offer and Ryder chuckles lightly.

"Mm that ship might have sailed." He says, gesturing to the living room and I follow him, both of us coming to stand in the hallway. I spot Bex, completely sprawled on the couch we'd been sharing, knocked out cold and realize Ryder is right.

"Well, okay then." I agree and he grins, pointing up the stairs and we climb them, walking down the hallways upstairs until we reach his bedroom. Once inside I make a b-line for the bed, collapsing face first into his thick, grey comforter.

"Come on, you can wear these." I sit up as a soft thump on the bed indicates he's tossed something at me. I look down at a large black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

"These will not fit." I giggle, holding the sweatpants up and standing clumsily. I pin them at my waist, watching the fabric pool at my feet, and look at him.

"They're a little long." He laughs. "I mean, everything I have is going to be big on you."

"I'll just wear this." I shrug, picking up the t-shirt and then reaching for the hem of my dress.

"Hey –" He starts, but in my still intoxicated state I've lost my sense of self-awareness that would normally prevent me from stripping down in front of a guy who I'm not planning on sleeping with. So, before he can stop me, I've pulled my body-con dress over my head, letting it drop to the floor unceremoniously. "Woah."

He stares for two seconds, eyes wide and cheeks a bit flushed before he turns around, one hand over his eyes, now facing the door and I laugh lightly.

"What, you've never seen a girl in her underwear before?" I tease and he makes a noise in the back of his throat. I look down at my black bra and thong, knowing that I'm teetering on the edge of a line between us.

"No, no, but I am pretty sure that when you sober up you won't want me thinking about you in your underwear." He says his voice a bit hoarse.

"Haven't you already thought about me in my underwear?" I should stop, I should not continue to act this way, but any sense of decency I had flew out the window the second I took that last shot tonight.

In other words, this isn't me right now, this is drunk Jourdan. And she is reckless.

"You really want to know?" He asks, turning slightly as I approach him, still not dressed in his t-shirt. He was only a few feet from me but standing this close now I can feel unspoken tension between us.

"Well, you're a guy." I state simply and he laughs. "You can turn around, by the way."

"You're not sober right now though."

"Ryder." I chide and he sighs, turning around fully but only meeting my eyes, refusing to look lower. Not that I really want him to . . . or maybe I do.

"You know I'm attracted to you." He grinds out, eyes a bit darker now as he watches me. "And I've been drinking, it's – this is not a good idea."

"Will you put the t-shirt on for me?" I ask softly and he swallows hard, nodding as he leans around me to pick it up. Then I lift my hands above my head obediently, enjoying the soft fabric as it falls around my body and brushes against my knees.

"There." He murmurs, pulling my hair out from the collar to let it fall down my back.

Then we're just standing there, his gaze still trained on mine, just a few inches from his bed but neither of us makes the move to climb in.

"You're a good guy Ryder." I whisper, having fallen so deep into the blue of his eyes that I'm suddenly pressed against his chest as his hands find my waist, steadying me.

"And you won't remember this in the morning." He answers, a small smile playing on his lips as his head tilts down a bit. We're a lot closer now than we have been, my heart thumping loudly in my ears as my eyes make the mistake of falling to his lips. I can't tell if it's the alcohol or him, but either way, every nerve in my body is electrified at our proximity.

He feels it too, I can tell by the way his pupils dilate and when he glances to my lips I suddenly wonder if he's going to kiss me.

I blink, and in that split second, Miles' sunken face flashes in my mind.

Bloodshot eyes, tear-stained cheeks, and disheveled hair.

Then, as if I am suddenly reminded of all the darkness swirling inside me now, I shift back and Ryder laughs gently, his hands on my waist move me towards the bed.

"Let's sleep." He says easily, pushing the pillows back and lifting up the covers so I can slide underneath them. I climb into bed, giggling as he tucks me in and then reaches around me to grab a pillow. "And don't worry, I will sleep on the floor or maybe I'll go on the futon."

"No, you can stay." I say quickly, reaching out to hold his wrist gently and he puts the pillow down.

"You're sure?" He questions and I nod.

"Yes,