11:03 PM. My phone buzzes in my hand, but I don't dare to answer it. I'm against a rough wall, fairy wings digging into my shoulders and back. Bryce has a phone to his ear, swaying on unsteady feet. Only a few feet away. I could reach out and punch him, if I wanted to.

"Hey-ey-ey, Amanda," he slurs. My heart momentarily stops. He's probably too drunk to notice that I'm right behind him, against a wall.

"Look, baby. I know I messed up. But you know I didn't mean it!" He's trying to sound sensual, voice going deep the way he knows I like. He hiccups before continuing. "Lucy - Lacey - she didn't mean anything! You do! You're the one I..." After a moment's glance around him, he presses his mouth closer to the phone. "You're the one I gave myself to. And you did the same for me."

Therein is his problem. Just because (in terms of sex) I'd been his first, he thinks I owe him. As if I can just forget that fifteen minutes ago, he was kissing someone else. As if I can just forget that in that moment, I hadn't meant anything to him at all.