Page 280 of Tell Me I'm Enough

“Simone!”

I blink and look up to see Mason stumbling across the room toward me, eyes hazed over, smile too wide, face still as handsome as always.

He stops in front of me and leans his forearm against the wall beside my head like he’s trapping me in his orbit.

“There she is,” he says, swaying just slightly. “Myfavoriteperson.”

The smell of vodka and cologne wraps around me like a familiar scent that I only associate with him. A scent I both hate and love at the same time.

He leans in and presses a sloppy kiss to my cheek. “You having fun?”

I nod and try to smile. “You?”

“Best night of my life,” he says immediately, then laughs at his own exaggeration.

His weight shifts, and he leans into me fully now, forehead brushing mine. “You’re too sober,” he murmurs.

Maybe I am.

Maybe I’m too everything.

“I’m fine,” I say.

He reaches for my cup and playfully shakes it a little. “That’s criminal.”

The reasons for not getting wasted tonight are slowly drifting farther and farther away.

I never used to drink to escape.

I was always the party girl who just wanted to have fun.

But tonight? With all the thoughts and emotions that won’t let up? I just want to forget a little. I want to live in that delusional bubble too for a while. Pretend everything is okay.

Who cares that I have my last day at the internship tomorrow morning before summer break? Who cares that I could have been going into my second trimester right now? Who cares that the boy I’ve loved harder than anyone else in my entire life is barely ever present with me anymore? Who cares that I feel like I’ve lost him to a bottle? Who cares that my life is so out of my control lately that I don’t even recognize myself anymore?

Who…cares?

I raise the cup, smiling at him. “You’re right. Fuck it.” I tip it back and then hand him the empty cup.

He winks at me. “You’re so hot.”

For the first time in my life, I understand the urge.

The pull.

The desire to just…not feel it.

To drown in it.

To turn the volume down on grief and jealousy and love and fear.

I pull him closer, twisting my hand in his shirt. “Find me another drink.”

His smirk grows as he pushes off the wall and stands upright. “Yes, ma’am.”

Once he comes back and hands me another cup, I lift it and take a long swallow.

It burns, and I welcome it.