I kick the front door shut behind me, and it slams so hard into the frame I swear it rattles the walls of the house. I hitch up the paper bag I’m holding higher in my arms and make my way into the kitchen. My roommates, Jason and Marty, sit around the table, and Evan is hanging out by the counter. They all turn as I walk in.
“Dude, where you been? I’ve been calling you all day.”
“Coach is pissed,” Evan tells me. “We were supposed to meet him at two.”
I don’t respond. I just drop the bag of liquor bottles on to the counter. I don’t give a single fuck about anything right now. The only thing that exists in my brain at the moment is Becca and Mulligan, together. I threw up when Mason took me back to his place, and just the thought of her with him makes me want to do it again. Mason wanted me to stay there, to calm down and get myself together, but I just wanted him to take me to the airport. I couldn’t stand the thought of being so close to her. All I wanted to do was put as many miles between us as possible, and I got the next flight out of there. Because of the time difference and the hours I had to wait for an available flight at the airport—during which Mason sat next to me, trying to make me feel better and not act like he’s as bewildered as I am by the turn of events—I’ve been gone for over twenty-four hours. I left the house without a word after seeing those pictures when I woke up yesterday morning, and I’ve ignored all calls and messages. Now it’s late afternoon, and I’m determined to forget.
“Dude, what the fuck?” This from Marty. They’re all staring at me, and I realize my hands are clenched so tightly into fists that my knuckles are white. “What happened?”
I ignore them. The only thing I want to do right now is forget, and the only way for me to do that is to drink. I reach into one of the bags and pull out a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. I unscrew the top and take a long hard sip straight from the bottle, enjoying the burn as it hits the back of my throat. I straighten up and see Evan’s eyes widen at me. It’s unlike me to drink in the middle of the day, but I need to forget. I need to not picture his hands all over her, kissing her, touching her. I take another long swig, swallowing more this time, and only stop drinking when my eyes start to water.
“What the hell are you doing, man? We got practice tomorrow.” Evan looks confused as I continue to pace up and down in the kitchen.
I grab another bottle out of the bag and slide it down the counter to Evan. “Either drink or get out,” I tell him. Evan looks at Jason as if he might have an answer.
“Actually, fuck it, yeah,” I say, thinking out loud. I pull my phone from my pocket and type out a message. I hit send, and it goes to everyone in my phonebook—everyone except her.
Their phones beep from around the room, and they look down at the message. I’ve just sent my entire contacts list a message saying we’re partying, right now.
“What’s going on?” Marty asks just as Dean walks into the kitchen. “Jake’s been freaking out all day, but won’t say why.”
“Hey, man. Where you been?” Dean asks. He pulls out his phone and reads my message. His eyes widen in surprise, and he looks at me pacing. The rest of the guys stare at me in confusion. “How many people did you send that to?” he asks.
“Everyone,” I tell him as his head snaps to Marty and Jason in question. They just shrug back at him. I need to forget. I need to not think about it. I need to end myself tonight, and this is the only way I can think to do it. “Time for you boys to show me the crazy, single college life you all keep talking about.”
A silence settles over them as they realize this must have something to do with Becca. They look from me to each other, completely lost as to what’s going on. I look at Marty. “Can that dude you know get me two kegs?”
He stares at me for a second, and then nods his head slowly.
“Get all the girls here that you can. Anyone, I don’t care. Just get some girls here.” Becca’s not the only one who can find someone else. If she can fuck someone else without a second thought for me, then I can do the same. She didn’t give a damn about everything we mean to each other, didn’t think about everything we’ve been through, our entire fucking history, which spans our whole lives. She fucked Robbie Mulligan, the guy who hates me more than anything, at a goddamn party. That just shows exactly what she really thinks of me. I’ve always worried deep down that she doesn’t feel the same for me as I feel for her, but I accepted that, because I knew she loved me, and I knew nobody in this whole world could be more deeply in love with someone than I was with Becca McKenzie. It’s just not possible. I’ve been so stupid. So, so stupid. Believing her bullshit about loving her life at Southern U too much and not wanting to transfer here because it doesn’t feel right. Her and Mulligan have probably been at it for months. They’ve probably been laughing at me for fucking months while I’ve been over here pining after her, thinking she loved me just as much as I loved her.
“Dude, what happened?” Evan asks quietly, stepping in front of me and bracing his hands on my shoulders. I just shake my head back at him. I can’t even bring myself to say the words. If I say the words, it makes them real. I lean back against the counter and close my eyes, instantly picturing her with him. He’s kissing her, touching her, stripping her. Blind rage takes over. I throw the bottle in my hand as hard as I can against the wall of the kitchen and watch as it smashes into a thousand pieces.
There’s stunned silence around me, and I’m breathing heavily. It feels like I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe knowing she did this to me, knowing she betrayed me like this. How could she do this? How could she do this to me? To us? We weren’t supposed to be like other couples. We were different.
“Ryan?” I turn to see Jake’s entered the kitchen, and he’s watching me cautiously. Seeing him calms me down, but only slightly. He steps toward me, and I suddenly snap out of it. I head back to the counter and pull another bottle out of my bag. I bought enough for me to forget my problems—hell, I bought enough for us all to forget. Jake clears his throat. “You okay?”
“You speak to Mason?” I ask him.
He nods. “It doesn’t make sense, Ryan. She wouldn’t—”
“She did.”
“Did she admit it?”
“She didn’t deny it.”
He shakes his head. “There’s gotta be an explan—”
“She fucking did it, Jake.”
“Seriously, what the fuck happened?” Jason demands loudly. “Is Becca okay?”
I let out a bitter laugh. Is Becca okay? I don’t give a fuck if Becca is okay or not. I hope she’s not. I hope she’s fucking miserable, because whatever she’s feeling right now, it’s not even a fraction of the pain I’m going through.
Jake holds out his phone. “How many people did you send that message to?”
“Everyone in my contacts.”
He sighs. “You wanna talk?”
I hold up my bottle. “I wanna do this.”
“Ryan—”
“I don’t wanna hear it, Jake.”
“She’s blowing up my phone,” Jake tells me just as I look down at my own phone and see that she’s calling me again. She’s been calling me constantly. I push it away. There’s no way I’m ever speaking to her again. “You need to talk to her.”
“Leave it, Jake.”
“Ryan—”
“I mean it, Jake,” I shout, my voice loud in the silence of the kitchen. “You need to fucking leave it.”
Jake bites his lip while looking down at the bottle on the counter. He looks back up at me, and I know he’s worried. I know he thinks I need to talk about this and that getting drunk isn’t the answer, but he doesn’t push me on it; he lets me do it my way. He doesn’t say a word as he steps forward and unscrews one of the bottles, takes a long swig, and winces as it goes down. He looks back at me. “I guess we’re drinking then.”
“What the hell is—”
“Becca fucked Robbie Mulligan, okay?” I snap, spinning around to face Jason. I watch as shock takes over his features. “Becca had sex with Robbie Mulligan. Last night.”
There’s complete silence at my words. No one moves an inch as I stand there and tell them what she’s done to me. Marty starts shaking his head in disbelief. “She wouldn’t.”
“She did.”
Marty opens his mouth and then closes it. There isn’t really much you can say to that. “Dude, I’m sorry.”
“So, yes, I’m fucking partying tonight.”
“Bro.” Evan’s face says it all.
“Yup,” I answer, nodding my head bitterly. “And then he sent me the pictures to prove it.” I pause, trying to shake the pictures out of my mind, but it’s like they’re imprinted on my brain. “He sent me the pictures to prove he fucked my girl.” It still doesn’t feel real to me. How did this happened? Only two days ago, everything was perfect. Now, my life has exploded. Becca McKenzie isn’t my girlfriend anymore. Becca McKenzie isn’t in my life anymore. How can something so big happen so fast? I want nothing more than to forget the last twenty-four hours. I pick my bottle up and sit down at the table, watching as one by one, my friends all pick up a bottle and sit down next to me. People start arriving pretty shortly afterward, and it’s not long before it gets out of control. I see the curious glances I’m getting from the team, and I know word’s gotten out about the reason I insisted on the party. The girls show up too, but I don’t even look at them. I don’t give a fuck about anything but the bottle of Jack in my hand. Jake stays next to me the whole time, and it only takes an hour after everyone arrives before I’m so drunk I can’t even think straight—which is exactly what I was hoping for.