Once Adrian and Chris are in my line of vision again, I decide to make a bold move. If I'm gonna pull this off, I need a little extra...courage. After making a quick pit stop at the refreshment table by the porch, I grab another plastic cup and fill it to the brim with scotch, ignoring the cold punch seeping through the tops of my black Vans and into my socks. As I tip up the cup and drink down the cool liquid I suddenly realize why I agreed to come to this party in the first place. By all rights, I shouldn't even be here. I'm annoyed with Aisling, confused by Calum, scared to even leave my house, and being completely honest, I'm still paranoid about running into Brandon. I haven't seen him since graduation, and I know that Aisling would never let him past the front door of her party; but it's still one of my top fears that I'll somehow encounter him alone again and he'll try to dominate me, and I'll be suffocated by that overwhelming sense of helplessness all over again. I remember what Brandon said at graduation about "finishing what we started". We. As if I somehow had a choice in the matter. The thought makes me so furious that I absentmindedly crush the empty plastic cup in my hand, and I realize - the reason I came to this party is to get revenge.

I'm not really sure who I want to get back at. All I know is that rage has consumed me for the past month since Calum left and I hadn't even noticed until now. How could he just leave me like this? I mean, he knows that his crazy ex-boss is on the loose, in addition to the sicko that tried to rape me. I'm probably more vulnerable than ever at this point, even more so now that he's not here, and I completely neglected to mention his coworker showing up at my house before I so carelessly tossed my phone into the pool. That was a stupid idea. At the time, it seemed grand and symbolic, like a doorway to the changed person I want to become - as if drowning my only means of communication is supposed to make me a badass. Probably the only thing I achieved is a pissed off sister. Who cares? She's never home anyway. No one is ever home. No one's ever there, or available. Is it so much to ask for a friend who's constant? Someone who won't just pick up and leave at the first sign of trouble? I shake my head and pour myself another cup of scotch. The drink burns my throat and I shudder, but now I'm on a mission. I'm shaking with anger now. I was fine before the phone call, I suppose, but something about hearing my mom's voice ignited a spark in me - and I'm not even mad at her. I'm mad at Calum. I've never felt this livid in my entire life.

I've missed his embrace so much, in fact, that I don't really miss him at all anymore. I just have this aching need to kiss somebody. I want the crazy passion he and I had again, even if it's just for one night, and at this point I don't care who it's with. My feet lead me straight towards the corner where Adrian is. A few girls are laughing and chatting with the other boys, and when he notices me approaching, he lifts his chin shyly in acknowledgement of my presence. I reach the spot where he's standing and he says quietly, "Hey, I was just - " I interrupt him by grabbing his hips firmly and backing him into the wall until I feel his shoulders hit the stone support of the pavilion. This earns a sharp gasp of surprise from him. I smirk, and inhale deeply, bringing my lips up against his. Compared to Calum he tastes plain, but for what he lacks in familiarity, I make up for with lust and spontaneity. Mutters from the group behind him ring in my ears but I raise myself onto my tiptoes and force his head back against the wall, kissing him more vigorously now. He groans softly into my mouth and reaches his muscular arms over my body to grab my face in his hands. I reach one arm around his back and grab his hair, the other arm still grasping onto his hip which is now flexed against my fingers. His firm chest leans in and out against me and he breaks away from my lips to momentarily nibble on my neck and around my collarbone. I'm honestly surprised; for someone who is so socially inept, he really knows his way around a girl. The best part of this is - I don't feel guilty at all. Nothing I've ever done has been this wrong, but in fact, this whole thing feels kind of like a victory. Here I am, making out with a complete stranger at a party, when up until last year I had never been kissed before in my life. I'm pretty enough to get a guy. I'm desirable. I think I'm more surprised by this than Adrian was by my spontaneous kiss, because he keeps working his tongue in and around my teeth delicately.

Calum and I aren't dating. We never have been, and by the way things are going, I don't think we ever will, so I'm not cheating on him. This just feels so much more simple than anything we ever had going on together. I'm instantly attracted to Adrian, and I can tell he feels the same way because he slowly pulls me away from the pavilion, still kissing me violently, his breathing rapidly increasing. I don't feel any remorse. In fact, I'm not really feeling anything. We weave our way along the fence and out through the back gate. I'm completely in control, and I love it. It's invigorating. He pulls me towards his car, illuminated by the dim glow of a streetlight overhead, and fumbles for the door behind him, our lips still locked. Instantly I know where this is going and I also know I have to finish what I started, so when he finally forces the door open, I break away and push him down onto the backseat. He lies there breathing heavily and looking up at me with hunger in his eyes. I have to do this. I climb on top of his lap and straddle him, leaning down over his face and beginning to kiss him again. Slower, this time. More teasingly. If I'm not going to get affection from someone who won't even say "I love you" back to me, I need to take it where I can get it. When I unbutton my shorts and slip out of them, I'm not surprised that he doesn't ask me if I really want to do this. He says nothing at all. I hear him breathing in the darkness, and I feel his warm legs under mine, but somehow I feel more alone than ever. Desperation urges me on. He pulls off his shirt and jeans, tossing them into the front seat, and I grow more anguished, pulling his face up to mine and kissing him as if my life depended on it. This is all I have now. A few people who decide when they want to be there for me, and a boy underneath me who just wants to get into my pants. There's nothing wrong with that. It means I'm attractive. It means that I wanted this, I asked for this, and it happened. Right?

About an hour later, my eyes open into darkness. The leather from the backseat of the car sticks to my back as I strain to sit up. I reach for my phone in my side pocket only to realize I'm not wearing pants. I'm not wearing anything. "Adrian?" I whisper into the blackness. No response. He got what he wanted and he left me alone in the backseat of his car, naked, with no phone. I slump back onto the seat, too numb to reach for my clothes. I don't feel any different. Schools and parents and teenagers are always playing up sex into a big deal, as if you're a completely changed person afterwards. Right now I'm not feeling "emotionally destroyed", which is one of the symptoms of losing your virginity to the wrong person according to River View's annual sexual education class. It was nice, it felt pretty good, and he was hot. But it wasn't that big of a deal because it didn't really mean much. If anything, I'm kind of relieved that he's gone. I'm not really sure what I would've done if he had stuck around, honestly, but right now I still hold the advantage because I'm unclothed and sitting in his car. He can't just kick me out if I'm not wearing anything. The feeling of power makes me smile. Not from happiness, more from this inkling of victory I have. Like I was in this competition with Calum to see who could act shittier and I won. Once I'm dressed again, I slide down from the backseat and head back to the party, not bothering to shut the door behind me. It's around 10pm, and by the looks of it, things are only gaining speed. I think more people are standing around than there were initially, and almost everyone is soaking wet from the pool.

Aisling is by the hot tub rallying a piggyback race between two opposing fraternities, in which the two bottom runners have to beat each other to the pool in order to win. It's getting pretty intense. People are even placing bets. I glance over at the band performing on the part time dance floor, half-expecting to see the boys playing but instead, it's two guys and a girl singing a cover of American Idiot. It reminds me of them, just like everything else, and I feel anger inside me fighting the exhaustion for dominance. How the hell is it possible for Calum to make me feel so loved and so unimportant? Why do I get this feeling that he wants me and also wants nothing to do with me? And every day when I wake up, I simultaneously feel protected and vulnerable. He's strong and intimidating, but he keeps letting people come after me and doing nothing about it. A hand on my shoulder stirs me out of my thoughts. "Hey," Chris grins. "I was looking for you. Enjoying yourself?" Lust burns at the bottom of my stomach again. Adrian wasn't enough. I have to have him, too. "Yeah," I say silkily, raising an eyebrow and casually placing a hand on his hip. "Aisling really knows how to throw a party." He laughs and I can already feel the sexual tension building. As I expected, there isn't a single guy here who doesn't have sex on his mind, because as soon as I bite my lip he leans in to kiss me. He's very gentle and sweet, careful, and I appreciate that. A lot. So much, in fact, that I realize I'm too tired to give him what he wants, so I only stand around like this with him for a few minutes before I pull away. I've abandoned my personality and now I just make up the chain of events that's happened to me over the past year. I'm just a name and a face, and a series of incidents. Nothing more. I guess that's why it was so easy for me to just throw myself away tonight. I have nothing left worth preserving myself for. If no one else cares, why should I? I shake my head. I can't believe I keep repeating this mistake I have of showing up to parties I have no business attending. It's getting old, and I keep messing things up even worse every time I try to have fun. I need to get out. He watches me in amazement as I turn away from him and head towards the house, leaving him wanting more.

Inside the living room, it's cool as the fan circles overhead, steadily drubbing. There's signs that people have been in here - a few cups lay on the ground, and the once tidy pillows from the sofa still have fresh indentions in them like someone had just gotten up from their seat. It's clear by looking at the stack of movies that none of them have been touched, so I pad over to the table and kneel down on the cold marble, rifling through the boxes. I don't really understand why Aisling would offer up such an expensive house for such a ridiculous reason. To willingly volunteer this beautiful mansion for a bunch of teenagers to spill beer all over the patios? She's barking mad, I tell you. Too full of good ideas. Too good for this world. Too good for me. My head starts to spin and what was once a pleasant buzz from the alcohol has now turned into a recognizably dizzying fatigue. I slump down on the plush sectional, decided on The Wolf of Wall Street, and gather the blankets around myself, nuzzling my face into the fabric. I can faintly smell Aisling's lavender scented candle through the threads, and I give a vague smile while the beginning credits begin to roll, drifting off into a barren sleep.

"Which boat do you want to take?" Aisling's voice resonates through the dry summer air as we wade through the ankle deep water, trying to find the perfect spot to paddle boat. Even though it's a brand new day my head is still spinning. I feel completely empty inside as if I've spent my entire life sitting in a chair doing nothing, feeling nothing. I blink at her, my eyes hollow, and then mumble, "I, uh, whichever boat you want to take is fine. They sort of all look the same, so, you know." She nods and trudges along the riverbank back towards the dock where all the boats are tied up. Most of the time, in movies and books, best friends are portrayed as people who understand each other's body language and can instantly tell when the other one has had a bad day. To teach people to expect that from someone is cruel. It's utter bullshit. No one is a mind reader. Sometimes people just don't want to face the fact that you might be unhappy so they ignore it, or they're too busy being themselves to understand that everything is not okay, and no, I'm not just tired, I'm actually quite dead inside. While she does have her psychic moments, it's unreasonable of me to expect her to constantly be tuned in to how I'm feeling. Besides, it's really not even important now. My life is my life, and she doesn't exactly need to know all the details from yesterday. That's a bridge I need to cross on my own when I get there.

"So what's gonna happen?" I call to her. "After I leave, I mean? Are you and Michael still gonna...you know..." She emerges from around the bushes dragging a boat by its rope through the water. I can't really read her expression, but I couldn't think of anything else to talk about. I really need to take a step back from myself and focus my energy on trying to help her if she really needs something from me. Exactly what I can assist her with, I'm not sure yet, but again, bridge. Cross. When I get there. "Well, people grow apart," she explains matter-of-factly. "It's natural. I mean, nothing he and I have had so far has been normal. We're not really stable. It's fun, but I think it was just a summer fling. If he wants more, then I'm all for it, but for all I know I think they're gone for good." She glances up at me and I guess I'm not as good at concealing my emotions as I thought, because she immediately says, "I mean, I don't think Calum would just abandon you like that. I'm confident he's going to come back for you." I scowl at the ground and kick up some dirt with the heel of my shoe. "Don't worry, okay?" she adds in a more gentle voice, placing a hand on my shoulder. "That's all I can do, is just worry," I growl. "I worry and make a big deal out of things that are normal for most people but I've never been around guys like this before. How do I decide what's best for me if I don't even know?" She takes a step back and her eyes widen a little bit. I don't think she was expecting that I would be so angry.

"Han?" she asks tentatively. I turn away from her. "I don't understand what I'm feeling right now," I say shakily. "For 17 years I've always been sure of what I wanted to get out of life. I was gonna finish school and get a job and forget all of this. Now, all of a sudden, I want to sleep with every guy I see, and it doesn't feel wrong - I don't feel anything, and I don't even care about finishing school. What's wrong with me? Why am I so angry, just... all the time? I can't focus on anything except for him and I feel like I'm going insane!" My fists are clenched so tightly that my knuckles turn white, and when she doesn't reply, I heave a long sigh. The sound of running water splashing against the riverbank fills the silence. I take a deep breath. "Sorry, I'm just...tired. Just tired. Never mind." "I have this feeling there's something more going on here," Aisling says, her voice steady and deadly serious. Of course. I can't stop thinking about that girl following me. I'm just uncomfortable because I don't know what she wants from me. Calum, sure, she's crazy and wants him to join Men In Black again or whatever crazy job he used to have. But why me? I can't tell Aisling about this. I have a feeling I'm not even supposed to know. It would just complicate things, and she would think I'm being too over dramatic (which is true, for the most part, but how am I supposed to react?)

"No, it's not that," I lie. "I'm just tired. And I'm mad. And I want to take it out on someone, and I'm scared that I may have made a mistake that I can't undo and I wish I hadn't because I think when I tell him, it's going to hurt him and I can't take it if I made everything worse." The words spill out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I resist the urge to smack myself in the forehead. Her eyes narrow as she studies me. "Hannah," she begins slowly, cautiously taking a step towards me and gauging my reaction. "Tell me what's going on, now." I intake a sharp breath and collect my wits before answering her. She can't know about Calum. If she knew what kind of trouble he's causing she would probably never let me talk to him again, and even though he's making me really frustrated, there's an ache deep in my stomach that I can't seem to fill with parties or hook ups or distractions. How is he even doing this to me? "I just wish things between me and Calum were normal, but they're not and I don't think they ever will be so please let's just do this and have a good time. I'm so over thinking about him for a while. It hurts too much." When you're having a conversation with your best friend, you're treading a fine line between how much you want to tell them. If you're in pain, you want them to know, but you don't want to make them over-worried or upset.

I'm absolutely relieved when all she does is pull me into a quick hug. "I trust your judgement," she murmurs. Her arms rub small circles on my back, and her breathing is steady against my neck. "If you don't want to talk about it, let's not talk about it." I nod, and we stay like this for a few seconds, listening to the rush of cool water lapping up against the sides of the boat. She pulls back after a bit and turns towards the boat, cocking her head to the side slightly, sizing it up. "Do you wanna get in first?" She asks uncertainly. I scoff and trudge down the sandy bank until I'm standing next to her and we stare down at the boat together. "Um..." I trail a line in the sand with the tip of my shoe. As someone who's native to Florida I've had nothing short of constant exposure to boats, but nothing compares to how flimsy this one looks as it rocks back and forth unevenly on the water. We exchange an uncertain look. "Okay, okay," she inhales deeply and smooths down her hair on either side. "I'll go first." She takes a few steps forward and places one foot on the unsteady boat. Her leg lingers here for a second, finding her balance, and I get an idea.

A smirk spreads across my lips as I tiptoe silently across the bank towards her. The second she lifts up her other foot to climb in, I launch off the ground and careen past her onto the nearest seat; I land in the boat on all fours and I hear a squeal from behind me, so I spin onto my back and watch her flailing arms disappear behind the side of the boat, producing a huge splash as she falls and showers my glasses with water droplets. A snort escapes my mouth and I bury my face in my hands, laughing uncontrollably until my ribs hurt. She surfaces a few feet away from where she landed, her blond hair flattened to either side of her head from dampness - she sputters and spits lake water out of her mouth, doing her best to scowl at me. Her angry face is the least intimidating thing I've ever seen, kind of like puppy eyes or a bunny running through a field, so I continue to snicker while she stands up and wrings out her now-soaked t-shirt. "What the hell?" She grumbles. I grin at her and shrug, and in a split second she tips the boat onto its side and my head is underwater, every sound of the