Alice's POV

Life could sometimes be one hell of a godforsaken asshole.

It'd be going so sweet and simple and the next thing you know, it smacks you right in the face, and everything, everything goes tumbling down to the deep pits of hell.

You never see it coming because what's the fun in that?

Soren: we need to talk.

I let my eyes run over the text for probably the sixtieth time in the past few seconds (alone) and wondered why I felt so sick to my stomach right then. It could've been those words--the text--that Soren had sent me hours ago, or it could've just been that Soren never sent me texts without a handful of emojis--which in itself told me deep down that he was going to break up with me.

Or maybe it was just the fact that I was having a massive hangover headache right now.

"Ungh." I groaned into my pillow and tossed my phone aside, aiming for the sidetable but wincing when I heard it fall to the floor. "My head."

"If only you'd have consumed a little less alcohol." My dormmate, Brooke, was being hella sarcastic and it only managed to increase the pounding in my head tenfold. "But hey, why go for something so tiny when there are these multiple tequila shots calling your name?"

"Stop...talking. Please."

"I'm merely repeating your words from last night, Alice."

Tequila shots. I remembered those words just as well. I could still taste the leftover bitter remnants of it on the very back of my tongue. It should've been alarming that I couldn't remember absolutely anything from last night but then again, this happened every time I was within reach of a bar. I went berserk whenever alcohol was involved.

A long, suffering sigh resounded from somewhere in our tiny little dorm and Brooke dropped something on my side table. "Take two of these if you want to make it till Dorothy's class."

"Fuck Dorothy," I mumbled, "when you're being the green witch."

Brooke tsked. "I'd advise you to take a handful, now that I see how bad it is."

I could practically feel her standing in front of our wall-length narrow mirror and examining her appearance. She always did that before going to class, almost as if she saw a hundred different flaws in her perfectly flawless attire and couldn't do anything about it.

"Do you want me to die?" I asked her amidst the continuous pangs in my head, then added as an afterthought, "You look amazing as you are, Brooke. Please stop staring at yourself." Because yes, it did freak me out sometimes when she did that every morning.

Brooke responded with a huff that wasn't her being offended, but just her way of giving me the older sister glare, even though she was just a year older than me and not even my sister. "Don't want you to die, I want you to live, champ."

I groaned again and pressed my face entirely into my pillow, grimacing at the stench of booze and trying to pretend that I wasn't still wearing clothes from the party last night.

By the time Brooke left and by the time I managed to get out of my bed and inhale a glass of water with only one aspirin, I felt somewhat better leaving my dorm, trying to shrug on my coat at the same time and protect myself from the morning chill. Even after a quick, scalding hot shower, something still smelled like booze and I tried not to complain since getting shit-drunk had all been my idea.

A peaceful night out, I had been thinking last night. And look how it had ended.

I was a little late to my first class and by the time I had managed to slide into one of the empty back seats, the professor had already started the lecture on classical conditioning. Not like he cared much about the pupils who came in late or early. It was relieving and disappointing at the same time because college was nothing like high school and if I found myself thinking too much about it, that too freaked me out sometimes.

Sighing, I pushed a loose strand of my hair behind my ear and felt around for my left wrist out of pure instinct, wincing softly when I didn't find the hair tie I usually wore on it.

Apparently, I wasn't the only late peer. Nico proved me wrong, instantly gaining my attention as he entered the classroom and started hurrying past the students sitting at the front, making his way to the seats around me.

I perked up and grinned.

"You look like shit, Nicholas," I told him as he slumped down on the seat beside mine--the only spare seat left. I could've also seen Professor Montgomery directing a somewhat disapproving glance towards us.

Nico muttered something under his breath and pulled his hoodie sleeve over his fist, wiping it over his desk and clearing the nonexistent dust before he pulled out a tiny notepad from his jacket pocket. "Keep your mouth shut, Rhodes."

I knocked his forearm off his desk and received a withering glare from him.

"Come on now," I whispered. "That's no way to talk to a friend."

"I'd rather fucking die than call you my friend."

"Actually." I grinned, leaning towards him and lowering my voice to a further dramatic whisper. "I do remember you confessing to me last night that I'm the most decent of all your friends."

It was a lie since I remembered nothing from last night, but if Nico's disheveled appearance said anything, he was as much hungover as I was right now. We'd both been there at the party last night, after all.

"Does the sun always have to shoot up your ass or something?" He grumbled. "How the hell are you not having a hangover after all that insane amount of alcohol you chugged down?"

I laughed and winced. Nico swore under his breath when I scooted a little towards him and pressed my heavy head on his shoulder. Last night was a total black haze to me, but we both must've bonded on something since Nico didn't shove me off his shoulder--something that he would've done any other day.

A tiny voice, the faintest, whispered at me to not push it too far. But he was my friend--Brooke and Nico were the only friends I had here. I wasn't taking it too far, I reminded myself.

A tiny sigh left my lips and I watched as Nico scribbled quick, fast notes on the page in front of him, filling in line after line until his tiny notepad seemed almost ready to explode with words.

"Nico," I whispered.

He shamelessly ignored me.

"Neeeco."

"What?" He whisper-yelled at me, eyes not once moving from the board and his notepad.

"You're not wearing your glasses." I helpfully reminded him.

He frowned just a little, squinting at the board, and waved his hand dismissively at me. It was a little adorable how much of a nerd he really was at times like these. I'd only ever called him adorable once and he'd pinched me so hard it'd left a red throbbing mark. A grump he was, more specifically.

Pulling away from him, I reached my hand towards one of the outside pockets of his bag that he had unceremoniously dumped beside me and flipped it open, taking his glasses out. A large gold paperclip fell out as well and I picked it up before it could've slid past our seats.

Once I'd given Nico his glasses, I sighed again and slumped back in my chair, eyes cast on the board like everyone else, but not daring to make any notes. It wasn't ever fruitful to make notes anyway, especially not when I had such a massive headache. I had always been shit at making notes in class and Mom hated that. She still might, I reminded myself, if she knew.

And it was like flipping a switch. One second I was looking a little forward to dozing off and the very next, I was forcing myself to pay attention, pressing the gold paperclip tightly against my palm as if its cold surface was the only thing grounding me to reality--to everything and anything--especially the words coming out of the professor's lips. Especially that. I needed to listen or I knew I'd miss something important and really, flunking this class wasn't an option, was it?

I had already fucked things up with Soren, as far as I could tell by the last text he'd left me, and if he broke up with me before the coming weekend, I would have no boyfriend to take to the family dinner my mother had scheduled this very Saturday. My mother who'd been stunned to hear that I finally had a boyfriend again, had practically demanded over the last phone call that I bring my boyfriend along since our bustling family of hundreds of aunts and uncles and cousins were dying to meet him. I didn't think she was exaggerating.

And I'd promised her, I remembered with belated panic. I'd promise her that I'd bring Soren along.

Taking out my phone as discreetly as I could've, I winced when I felt Nico passing me a quick disapproving glance and opened up the last text I'd received from Soren.

Soren: we need to talk.

I typed, Hey. Yeah sure. Just wanted to remind you of the dinner at my parents. You're still coming right?

I waited and waited, hoping he would reply. But then I remembered that he was most probably in class--music practice, like he had every Monday--and he must be busy. So I put my phone aside and exhaled slowly.

Maybe, I thought, maybe it wouldn't go down the same shithole like it did every time. Maybe not this time.