The house of the party Lana manages to drag me to is unreasonably crowded and extremely loud. I have a headache as soon as I walk through the front door, which is saying something.

The first thing I notice are the red solo cups. It's like everyone has one, and I don't let myself wonder what's in them. By looking at the beverage choices laid out in the kitchen, it's nothing good. The only non-alcoholic option I see is Coke, and the bottle is already more than half way gone.

In the corner of what I assume is the living room stands a group of people sharing a joint, which makes me shiver. The living room is littered with different groups, some drinking and smoking, some dancing, and others simply talking in clusters.

"Wow!" Lana cries over the music and conversations going on around us. "It's packed!"

"I can tell!" I yell back, unsure of what I should be feeling right about now. It's weird to be thrown into this kind of situation, and I can't help but feel a little awkward. I'm not exactly the best when it comes to socializing, and it doesn't help that I have a tendency to isolate myself.

"Come on!" Lana says at that moment, almost as if she can read my mind. "There are some people I want you to meet!"

Lana leads me around the house, introducing me to handfuls of people with almost every step we take. I'm talking to a blonde girl Lana has just introduced me to whose name I've already forgotten when the front door opens, catching my attention. I glance up to see who's entering absentmindedly, immediately regretting my decision. I watch as Jack and at least half of the football team walks in, and my heart inexplicably does a little flip when my gaze settles on Aster Pines's very own golden boy.

I don't know what's wrong with me. As soon as I see Jack, my heart starts to pound. Everything else around me fades, my eyes zooming in on him as if he's the only person here. Jack's golden brown hair is a little messy, almost like he's been running his hands through it. His green eyes are bright, and he flashes his movie star smile to the people he passes on his way into the living room. He wears a hoodie and jeans, somehow still managing to look like a model.

Oh Lord, what is wrong with me?

Jack suddenly catches my gaze, shooting me a small smile as our stares lock. My knees instantly go slightly weak, and I feel a little faint. I'm not sure what is about him in this moment that's making me feel like a schoolgirl with a crush, but I hate it. Whatever trance I'm in needs to stop, and now.

I walk away from the blonde I was formerly speaking to without saying goodbye, grabbing Lana and pulling her away from the group she was talking to and dragging her with me out of the living room.

"What's—" Lana starts, a confused expression evident on her features as she glances at me in surprise.

"I need a drink," I tell Lana in explanation, cutting her off mid-sentence.

"I thought you didn't drink?" Lana inquires, raising her eyebrows in question as she stares me down with a curious expression.

My eyes involuntarily drift to Jack once again, who is now standing in the corner of the living room talking to a football friend. I can feel my heart rate spike, my cheeks flushing as my stomach flutters with inexplicable butterflies.

"I do tonight."

• • •

I don't know how many drinks I down. All I know is that I do not have a high alcohol tolerance.

It doesn't take long for my vision to get a little blurry and my mind to feel a little foggy. As I take a sip from my fourth or fifth or maybe even seventh drink, I finally start to understand why they call alcohol liquid courage.

"Lucas!" I cry as soon as I spot my friend's familiar blond head across the room. "Hi!" My voice wobbles a little as I say the word, and I'm pretty sure my entire body does too. It's hard to take a straight step, but I don't worry about that too much.

Lucas looks confused as he glances down at me, furrowing his eyebrows together like he's trying to figure something out. "Um, hey," he responds, lips melting into a smile that looks almost worried. "Are you okay, Morgan?"

"I'm fine!" I blurt, giggling at the thought of what Lucas is insinuating. Of course I'm okay. I'm better than ever, even if I can't walk very straight. Which is crazy, I mean why do people even walk straight? Isn't the earth round? Shouldn't we walk round?

I have no clue what I'm thinking, but I'm sure that doesn't mean anything.

"You look a little wasted," Lucas muses, studying me closely with those blue eyes of his.

"I'm not wasted," I assure him, laughing like Lucas has just told me a hilarious joke. "Just . . . buzzed."

"Okay?" Lucas mumbles, obviously not buying my lie. "You—"

"Shut up!" I scream, pressing a finger to his lips in an attempt to stop him from talking. I'm feeling rather spontaneous right now, adrenaline coursing through my veins and rushing to my brain. "Don't talk. Just—Dance with me!"

I don't wait for Lucas to respond before I take his hand in mine and pull him to the center of the living room where a bunch of other people are crowded together and moving to the rhythm of some Ariana Grande song.

"You look really cute!" I blurt out loud without thinking of the words, grabbing Lucas by the collar of his shirt to pull him closer to me as I move with the catchy beat surrounding us.

"Thanks?" Lucas says the word like it's a question, which is kind of cute. Even in my incredibly unbalanced state, I can see the gleam of concern that shines in Lucas's eyes. This bothers me for some reason, and I can feel a bit of my carefree attitude giving way to something much darker.

"Ugh!" I cry, suddenly annoyed out of nowhere. "Why can't you just take a compliment?"

"Um—" Lucas opens his mouth to give me a rebuttal, but I don't give him much of an opportunity to defend himself.

"Don't talk, Lucas!" I cry, grabbing his face and squeezing his cheeks in my hands, my lightheartedness coming back. "Just dance!"

"Morgan . . ." Lucas is talking, but I don't listen to a word he says. Because just then my gaze zeroes in on Jack, who just so happens to be looking back at me. I don't know why the sight of him makes my heart do a gymnastics routine or why I feel butterflies rush through me, and I don't bother thinking about it. I don't think I could even if I wanted to, honestly.

"Lucas!" I cry with a sudden urge to do something very stupid, but doesn't seem stupid at the moment. "Kiss me!"

"Morgan—" Lucas starts to speak, but once again I don't give him a chance.

Instead, I press my lips to his, cutting him off completely. The metal of his lip ring is cool against my lips, and he only hesitates a moment before kissing me back. I run my fingers through his soft hair and feel his hands gripping my waist, slipping every now and then as I press myself against him, needing him close. It's weird to be feeling so much while not really feeling anything at all, and if I were thinking rationally I know a part of me would hate myself for admitting that.

For some reason while I'm kissing Lucas, an image of Jack appears in my mind. No matter how much I try to push the image out, it insists on staying front and center of my brain, messing with me through and through.

In response to the thoughts, I kiss Lucas harder. I forget about everything except for this moment right now, which is both a good and bad thing. Lucas reacts to my intentions immediately, and things get pretty heated between the two of us. I can feel Lucas's grip slipping lower beyond my hips as he presses me back against the wall behind us, his lips moving in rhythm with my own. My hands slide down his chest as I try to get a grip on his shirt, and Lucas bites my lower lip as he pulls back momentarily, making me release a breathy moan before our lips collide all over again. I can feel his hands slipping underneath my shirt, wrapping around my skin and pulling me in closer to him.

All the while, I'm still thinking of Jack. I can't stop seeing him in my head, which only pushes me to go farther with Lucas. At this point, I'm sure we're a sight to see, displaying an overbearing amount of PDA to those around us. In the back of my head, a part of me knows that I shouldn't be doing this and that rational Morgan would regret this. But irrational Morgan can't stop thinking about Jack fucking Crawford, and it's driving me a bit insane.

As if my thoughts somehow managed to conjure him, I suddenly feel a hand on my shoulder, pulling me away from Lucas before I even know what's happening. I look up in a daze to find no other than Jack Crawford himself standing next to me, a hand resting almost protectively on my shoulder. I'd be lying if I said Jack didn't look angry in this moment, his green eyes full of fury as they glare at Lucas.

"Jack?" I slur, a hiccup escaping my lips as I simultaneously try to catch my breath and my bearings. "What are you doing?"

"I could be asking you the same thing," he mumbles in response, his tone dangerously cold. Although the words seem to be directed toward me, he looks Lucas dead in the eye as he says them.

"What are you doing?" Jack hisses to his cousin, keeping his voice low as if he doesn't want anyone else to hear him. I notice the shocked/furious expression on his face, like he's in disbelief.

Lucas blinks, clearly taken aback. I just stand here next to the two of them, wondering why my head has suddenly started spinning and splitting all at once.

"Chill out," Lucas says to Jack, his blue eyes narrowing as he does so. "We were just—"

"You were just nothing," Jack snaps, cutting Lucas off. Jack keeps his protective hand on my shoulder, almost as if he thinks something is going to happen to me if he lets go. "She's clearly drunk, Lucas. You're taking advantage of her."

Lucas blinks, stunned. He blinks again and the shock disappears from his face, replacing itself with pure fury. "She kissed me, Ja—"

"She's drunk!" Jack cries slightly louder than the first time, attracting a little attention from the crowds around us. "It doesn't matter if she kissed you first—she's completely out of it! I don't think she's going to appreciate this when she's sober."

Lucas's expression morphs from shock to anger within a few swift seconds, his fists balled at his sides. "You don't know that, Jack," he says a little too loudly. "You hardly even know her. Of course you'd pull something like this. I should have known."

"You should have known what?" Jack asks in a low tone, stepping toward his cousin. "That I would step in if I saw your tongue down a wasted girl's throat and your hands up her shirt? Damn straight. It's called being a good person."

"No," Lucas snaps bitterly, practically seething at this point. "It's called looking for attention. Good old Jack, always has to be the hero even when nobody needs saving."

At that moment, my vision begins to blur in and out, along with my hearing. For a moment I can't tell if I'm even awake or not, because I feel kind of like I'm dreaming. How many drinks did I have anyway? I don't think I've ever even had alcohol before. It's in this moment that I can really feel it starting to get to me.

"Whatever, Lucas," Jack mutters, brushing his cousin off without a second thought. He turns those green eyes of his on me, completely ignoring Lucas next to him. "Come on, Morgan," Jack says to me with a gentle tone, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to hold me steady. "Let's get you out of here."

"Where are you going?" Lucas asks as Jack takes a step forward, the question making him turn around.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm going to take her home," Jack responds coldly, his arm still warm and protective around my shoulders. I feel myself starting to ease into him, not really on purpose but more because I can honestly barely hold myself up.

"Yeah right," Lucas snorts with an attitude, rolling his eyes in disgust. "More like you're gonna try to get in her pants. And I was taking advantage of her. Right."

Jack's eyes flash wildly as he glares at his cousin, and for a moment I get the feeling he's going to hit Lucas. Instead, he quickly regains his composure, wrapping his arm back around my shoulder and leading me out of the house without another word to anyone. We walk down the driveway slowly, me leaning on Jack like he's my lifeline, stumbling every few feet as I hiccup. Moments later, Jack helps me into his car, strapping my seat-belt for me and everything.

"Where are we going?" I slur as Jack carefully pulls out of the driveway, glancing at me every few seconds out of the corner of his eye with what looks like worry in his gaze.

"I'm gonna take you home," Jack says gently after a minute, eyes on the road as he concentrates on driving. "You too out of it to give me an address, Scott?"

"No!" I cry way too loudly than needed, sobering slightly at the thought of my dad finding me in my current state. I can only imagine the consequences that would come out of my actions. He'd probably think I was acting out because of Mom. He'd be so disappointed in me; so crushed that I would do something like this. I can't handle that right now. I don't think I can handle much of anything right now, actually. "You can't take me home! My dad can't see me like this!"

Jack halts at a stop sign, sighing and running his hands through his hair before he turns to face me. "Where do you want me to take you, then?"

"Anywhere but home!" I stutter, hiccuping again. That's when the tears start to run down my cheeks, my chest heaving sobs before I even realize that I'm crying. "My dad c-can't s-see me l-like this, J-Jack!" I wail, crying into my palms and wondering where all my tears are even coming from. Ten seconds ago I was making out with one of my best friends, and now I'm an emotional wreck. If I were in a rational position, I'd hate myself right about now. Hell, I'm completely out of my mind and I still hate myself right now.

"Okay," Jack says under his breath, trying to be soothing. "Okay, okay. I won't take you home, all right? Calm down." I can feel his hand on my back, running around in small, relieving circles, making me feel slightly better. For a minute I think about going back to Lana's house for the night, but then I remember that she got pretty wasted too. There's no way she'll be able to drive me home tomorrow with the hangover she's bound to have, which would mean Dad would have to come get me when I'll also be hungover—which is so not happening.

I swear to God that I will never drink again in my life.

"I don't have anywhere to go," I admit, crying silently to myself. "Ugh, my head is spinning!"

Jack eyes me for a moment, a thoughtful look on his features like he's debating with himself about something. Finally, he sighs, turning back to the road before us. Pressing down on the gas pedal once again, he mutters, "There's one place you can go."