It's bad. Oh is it bad.

I'm laying on the cold grimy bathroom floor at some bar clutching onto my cellphone as I leave Liam another drunk rambling message. His phone still clicks right to voicemail so I have been continuously calling and leaving messages declaring my unwavering love for him all evening. Harper at one point tried to take my phone away but I threw an immature hissy fit and she eventually gave up on the battle.

The dimly lit stall is spinning in all directions and I hardly have the strength or coordination to keep my head from drooping into my chest. I've lost one of my heels and I have something red and sticky snaking down the side of my dark jeans. The bottom of my bare foot is coated black and I am seriously concerned with what bacteria could be covering my skin.

I finish my long bumbling message, once again begging him to call me back and cram my phone into my purse. I use the metal stall to help push myself up and I'm wavering back and forth as I place my palms against the door to steady myself. I fumble with the small silver lock and after a few failed attempts I finally get the door open. I stumble out of the stall and wince when I see my blurry reflection in the bathroom mirror. My face is bright red from the warmth of the alcohol and tendrils of blonde hair now frame my face after escaping the elastic of my messy ponytail. My black eyeliner is smudged all over my eyes and my lips are dry and chapped, which I didn't even know was possible with all this humidity. I don't even bother attempting to fix my messy appearance and I continue to wobble out of the small bathroom.

The bar music is deafening and the strobing lights are making my blurry vision worse. I scan the room trying to find Mischa or Harper and it takes a second before I find Harper's bright pink dress in the corner of the dance floor. Some guy is hunched over her, leaning in close to her face and I can see her smiling from whatever sweet nothings he's whispering into her ear. Once I make it over to her by dodging past girls grinding up against over eager guys, I stroke her arm to get her attention.

"Harper, I'm ready to go," I slur and she seems much more perky than I do at the moment.

"Not yet Ellie, I still have a whole vodka cran to finish," she yells as she jiggles the plastic cup in her hand at me. I put my hand against the wall to steady myself and I know I need to get home. I've already puked once in some random parking lot on the walk over from the last bar and I can already tell that's not going to be the end of it.

"Where's Mischa?" I ask and she shrugs back to me. I look behind me at all the dancers and find Mischa heading outside, holding onto the arm of some guy. Having only one shoe is going to prevent me from getting anywhere in a hurry but I decide to strut over to where she disappeared to.

When I push the patio door open the cool night is welcomed on my warm face and I inhale the salt water hanging in the air. The lights are brighter on the patio bar so Mischa is easy to spot when I see her hanging out at a pub table by the bar's exit. I hastily walk over to her and the guy she is standing with and she giggles when she sees me.

"Ellie, what happened to your shoe?" She asks as she points to my bare foot and I shake my head at her, "The heel broke so I was carrying it around and at some point I dropped it. But anyway I'm ready to leave. Are you? Harper's not but I don't want to wait around until she is." I glance to the guy she's standing with and between my drunken state and the loud music I can't hear her or his thoughts. I have no idea if she's planning on going home with this guy or what his intentions are.

"You are in pretty rough shape girl. Alright, let's get you home," she says as she walks out from behind the table and the guy frowns behind her. Selfishly, I am thankful that she's not going home with this guy because I really didn't want to be alone. He reaches out and grabs her hand and he says something into her ear. She then hands him her phone and I watch his thumbs enter his info into her contacts. He then snaps a quick selfie and hands the phone back to her. She smiles at him and then grabs my arm to head back inside. Their drunken hot mess of a friend didn't stop either Harper or Mischa from scoring hot guys' numbers tonight.

It seems to be getting harder to stand up straight so I feel myself leaning on Mischa as we make it back to Harper. Mischa leans in close to Harper as they talk and eventually Harper chugs her drink and gently pats the guy's arm she's with. She links arms with Mischa and I'm not sure what Mischa said to her but now I guess she's ready to leave.

We struggle making it across the bar as we are pushed and bumped into by other drunk strangers but we eventually make it outside to the taxi line. Mischa waves her hands in the air and I am immediately relieved as I plop into the plush taxi seat. I realize I never told Zoe that Harper was in town and I don't have a place for Harper to sleep. We are all underage, so we could get in serious trouble stumbling drunk across campus back to our dorms. Our fake ID's may have gotten us into the bars but Pepperdine has our real information.

I think quickly before I chicken out and give the taxi driver Liam's address. Both Mischa and Harper glance to me as I tell the driver our destination but both agree that it's the best option. Liam never got the chance to tell me what he was doing with his place, so I am hoping it's still open.

The taxi drops us off at the familiar driveway and I cross my fingers as I slowly punch in the code. The small metal numbers are all blurred into one but I eventually type in the correct combination and the gate swings open. Both Harper and Mischa clap in relief and we make the long walk back to the guest house. Harper compliments both the beautiful landscape and shimmering pool but her voice is too loud for how late it is.

"Harper, you are being so loud! You're going to disturb the main house and I don't even know if I have permission to be here!" I scold as we make our way to Liam's front steps. The alcohol is preventing me from lingering on my worried thoughts but I have no idea if Liam's stuff is still here or if there is even a key still under the ceramic plant that sits to the left of his door.

"Do you even have a key for this place?" Mischa asks and I shrug my shoulders in response. It takes more coordination than I intended to lean down and move the pot, but my heart races when I find the tiny silver key tucked away. I pluck the key up and Harper helps me back into standing position. Getting the key in the lock is slightly harder than punching the gate code in but I eventually slide it in and twist the knob. The door easily swings open and the house is covered in darkness. I feel around the wall for the light switches and when I flip the switch, I almost burst into tears.

"Thank god all of Liam's stuff is still here," Harper gushes as she crosses the threshold and Mischa follows in behind her. I'm ecstatic to know he left his lease active and I quietly click the door shut behind me. My eyes run over all of his belongings while I tug the tight heel off of my foot. His bed is made and I see a few shirts still hanging in the small closet. He wouldn't leave all this here if he had no intention of returning.

Mischa shimmies off her skintight purple bandage dress and she's wondering what she should sleep in. It would be weird to let them wear any of Liam's clothes and I wonder if I left any of my belongings behind when I hastily stuffed my bags the last time I was here. I drag my feet towards the dresser and when I pull the middle drawer open I find a few of my t-shirts neatly folded inside. I pull them out and hand one of them to Mischa. Harper is in the bathroom but once she makes it over to where Mischa and I are sitting I throw a shirt at her.

"Pajamas," I slur and she holds my old cheer t-shirt out in front of her.

"Well Liam has a bomb-ass place. And if all his shit is still practically here that means he's coming back right?" Harper says as she changes into my shirt. I stay slumped over, sitting on the corner of the bed and once Harper is changed she helps me pull my tight black dress off. I slowly slide on one of Liam's soft crew necks and I pull the cotton fabric up to my face to inhale his fresh scent. A pang of sadness washes over me and I know in response the next wave of throw up is coming. I leap off the bed and run into the bathroom right as the acid reaches my throat. I heave the alcohol out of my system as tears slide down my cheeks. I tried so hard not to cry the entire time I was out with the girls but just being here is harder than I thought.

I wipe my face with a towel slung over a rack and use the sink to brace myself to my feet. I find my pink toothbrush still tucked away in his medicine cabinet and manage to clean my mouth out. I swig mouthwash around and I actually feel better after throwing up. Harper is lingering by the bathroom door when I finish and she comes over and rubs my back.

"Feel better drunky?" She asks and I nod to her. She wraps her arm around mine and leads me back to the bed. The king-sized bed will easily accommodate us, so Mischa pulls down the thin gray comforter and we crawl into the inviting bed.

"I am so tired!" Mischa whines as she pulls the covers over herself and I decide to take the middle spot. Harper and I snuggle in and I realize Liam must have washed the bed linens before he left because everything smells fresh from the dryer sheets. I bury my face into the pillow, trying desperately to find his scent and I am disappointed when I can't find it. I pull my knees into me and keep my face buried into the pillow. It only takes a few seconds for the remaining alcohol in my system to take over and before I can finish tracing Liam's features in my mind, I am fast asleep.