you need to get dressed.”
“Oh shut up, Brendon. You have sex with everyone—everyone knows that—so you can have sex with me too.”
“Hey!” Even in my drunken state, I can tell he actually sounds annoyed at my character assessment of him. “I’m not that bad! I do have standards.”
This makes me straighten up. “And…what? Do I not meet your standards?”
“That’s not what I said.”
I roll my eyes and reach for the button on my jeans, snapping them open.
“Abigail.” Full-on panic has entered his voice now. “Stop it. Stop it right now. Do not pull your pants down.”
“Brendon, we are going to have sex. Get used to it.”
“What the fuck is happening right now?”
I scowl as there’s further banging on the bathroom door but choose to ignore it. “We’re having sex.”
“What?
Seriously, why do I keep having to go through this? “We’re gonna do it.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because you have sex with everyone and I want to.”
“You want to have sex with me?!”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Well, no, not really, but you’ll do.” I pause. “If I’m honest, I just want to have sex, and Aaron said no then you were the next person I saw.”
Despite the ridiculousness of this situation, he still manages to look affronted. “So I’m second best?”
“Who cares?”
“Abigail—”
“Just take your clothes off.”
I start to undo my zip and ease my jeans over my hips.
“Abigail!”
“We’re doing this,” I snap, starting to get seriously pissed off that he’s making this so difficult. Lack of resistance was one of the reasons he was supposed to be such a good choice for this.
“But why?”
“Because I can. Because I’m actually good at this. It’s the one thing other than makeup I’m actually good at.”
“What is going on?”
“I keep telling you we’re going to have sex. I promise I’m good. Ask Chase.”
His stops suddenly, understanding starting to take over his features.
“And to be honest, as it turns out, I’m not very good at most things. I’m not a good enough girlfriend or he wouldn’t have dumped me so many times, I’m not a good enough daughter or my mom wouldn’t bitch at me all the time, I’m not a good enough friend or I wouldn’t always be wondering if Sarah secretly hates me, and I’m not good enough at school or I wouldn’t be failing.”
He stares at me in complete silence.
“So right now, I’m going to do something I’m good at.”
His whole demeanor softens.
“What do you mean you’re failing?”
Shit. I let that one slip. I don’t say anything else as I watch him, swaying slightly on my feet. I really have had way too much to drink tonight.
“Abigail…” His voice is gentle. “You’re drunk. You’re gonna regret this tomorrow.”
“Pfft.” I steady myself against the sink and again try to ease my jeans down my thighs, but the distribution of my weight shifts and I end up falling forward, landing heavily on my shoulder, my ass up in the air.
“Fuck, are you okay?”
That’s when I start to cry.
I cry because I’m drunk in a bathroom getting rejected by Brendon. I cry because I just got publicly rejected by Aaron at his party in front of God knows how many people. I cry because Chase is in love with Livy, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to stop wanting him.
Most of all I cry because all my friends at this party are going to graduate without me in a couple of months and I’m going to be the loser left behind.
I shift my body, pulling myself into a foetal position with my back against the bathroom wall, and let myself cry.
He crouches down in front of me then, awkwardly going to place his hand on my shoulder to comfort me before thinking better of it and then moving away.
“Don’t cry—you’ll laugh about this tomorrow.”
This just makes me cry harder, full-on sobs, because I definitely will not be laughing about this tomorrow. I must be sobering up just slightly, because it’s starting to dawn on me what a complete fool I’ve just made of myself.
“It’s okay, please don’t cry, Abigail.”
“You don’t get it,” I manage to stammer out, swiping at my eyes and using my hand to wipe at the snot now coming out of my nose.
“Come on, it’s okay. We all do stupid shit when we’re drunk.”
“It’s not okay.”
“What happened?”
“I’m the stupid shit.”
“Huh?”
“I’m the stupid shit. I’m officially, one hundred percent stupid.”
“What are you talking about? You’re not stupid.”
“Then why won’t I graduate?”
That completely stumps him as I watch him through my tears. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m failing.