Ty and I treat each other with strained politeness after our dates. It’s a relief when Spring Break arrives. Fleur, Leon, and a bunch of others head to the Bahamas. I fly to see my dad in New York. Ty stays at campus.

The distance, I think, will be good for all of us. It’s not. I’m miserable the whole time. Stephen and Tracy are knee deep in wedding plans and Dad spends most of his time meeting with a new client over a commission.

I take long walks along the Hudson and try to convince myself that it doesn’t matter that Ty is going to end up with a woman other than me. That’s how it’s always been.

When I return to campus, I’m feeling particularly low, which is why I said yes to Matt's invitation to his fraternity's house party. He was all tearful about his broken engagement. The fight with Maribeth had something to do with her not approving of a trip Matt wanted to take with his dickhead friends. I pretended to care and did such a good job of it, Matt begged me to stop by tonight and help him drink his sorrows away. Stupid things are done by stupid people. I’m the stupid one here, if anyone’s wondering.

“Is Ty going to glare at us all night?” Fleur hisses in my ear. I slump further down in the sofa cushion, trying to avoid Ty’s narrowed eyes. He’s not wearing his glasses tonight, so his disapproval is extra clear.

“I don't know, but I think I need to move out of the line of sight. Even if I were a cat I'd be dead, because at this point there'd be no lives left to be reincarnated.”

“Right?”

“It's because of his size,” I add. “If he were smaller, he'd look constipated, but because he's big, it's menacing.”

“Whatever.” She waves a drunk, dismissive hand in front of us and then points to my ex. “So what the hell is up with you and him? You two getting back together?”

I look over at my ex, whose khaki pants are sagging under his butt and grimace. “No way.”

“Then why are we here?”

“Free booze?”

“We’re seniors. We don’t go places for free booze anymore.”

I hold up the cheap plastic cup. “The evidence would disprove that. We’re easy marks.”

“You’re an easy mark. I’m a good friend.”

“This is true.” My life is blessed with good friends. When Fleur found out I said yes to this party, she immediately got on the phone and told everyone we were going out, including Ty.

“Speaking of easy marks, I didn’t even give Doorknob Boy the kick in the ass like he deserved.”

“I thought you told him he was no better than a prostitute, trying to sell himself for a story,” Fleur asks.

“That’s true.” I feel marginally better. “I also said his face looked like a doorknob with eyes.” I peer into my beer. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Nah, he asked you out under false pretenses. You get to insult him any way you want, including his dick size.”

I scrunch my nose. “I don’t want to think about his dick.”

“How about his?” Fleur nudges my shoulder, only she's drunk a little more than she should so she ends up leaning into me, like I'm her favorite plushie. “Matt expects you to spend the night.”

“Matt's a fool.”

We clink our plastic glasses together. “You should sleep with one of his frat brothers. Someone he doesn't like,” Fleur proposes. Her gaze sweeps the room and stops on one wearing an untucked pink shirt with small birds—or are those ants? I can't tell from here—printed on the fabric. “How about Allen Moore? I heard he has a massive schlong.”

“Where did you hear that?”

There's a beat of silence and then, “I made it up,” she admits.

“Fleur!” I exclaim. “You can't lie about that. What would happen if I said yes and then he dropped his pants and all I got was a cocktail weenie instead of the jumbo size I'd been promised?”

“You were engaged to Matt and work with Van Asshole. You're immune to disappointment. Besides, there's a point where there can be too much dick.”

As one, we swivel away from Khaki Boy to Ty, who's leaning against the bar, jeans hugging his muscular legs and fine ass, topped off with a T-shirt that stretches across his broad chest.

I sigh. “No. There is no such thing as too much dick.”

“You spend too much time with Ty. Learn to lower your expectations. Not everyone has a body like his. Besides, I like a little squishiness. It's nice to hug.”

“I'm not comparing anyone to Ty.”

“Buuuuuullshit,” Fleur says in a sing-song voice.

“What's bullshit?”

The new voice is Leon, Fleur's squishy boyfriend who is as sweet as sweet can be.

“That you're dating Fleur and not me. That's what is bullshit,” I announce.

He sits down next to Fleur and pulls her off me, tucking her under his arm. “Sorry, babe. I know I'm a hottie, but I belong to Fleur.”

“I saw you first.” I make a fake cry and rub my fists under my eyes.

Fleur drunkenly shoves my hand away. “You're being too cute. Stop.” She cranes her neck back, almost falling on the floor before Leon catches her. She lists toward me. “Ara's reconnecting with her ex.”

“I am not.” I stick my tongue out.

Fleur tries to shove it back in my mouth while Leon watches us with bemusement. “Does Ty know this?”

“It's not up to Ty.” I jut my chin defiantly. Since when does Ty get to dictate who I'm going to date? “If I want to get back together with Matt, I can.” I’d rather poke my eyes out with toothpicks, but still. “Besides, Ty's busy with Business Barbie.”

“Ty will probably chop Matt into little pieces if he hears you are even thinking about getting back together with your ex. Any of them. Ty's not a fan of your choices.”

I consider this. “That's true. It's his fault I'm single. But it's not like he's making good decisions. Look at that.”

I point across the room.

“Yeah,” Fleur agrees. “He's with the shark.”

“The shark?” Leon echoes.

“She's trying to acquire Ty. Came up to Ara at the coffee house the other day and gave her a business card. Who has cards as a senior?” Fleur is affronted by the cards, but mostly because she didn't think of them first.

“Lots of people,” Leon says.

“Really?” I ask. Is this why I'm not getting any job offers? Because I don't have a business card?

“I want a card,” Fleur laments. “She's cool, isn't she, Ara? That's why we hate her.”

“I set them up,” I mumble miserably.

“You did?” Fleur screeches. A bunch of heads turn in our direction, including Ty and Kathleen. She smiles patronizingly over at us.

“Yes.” I hang my head even lower.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I panicked, okay? I started having inappropriate feelings and I just…vomited up his number.”

“That’s pleasant imagery,” Leon comments.

“Shush,” Fleur says. She bangs her nearly empty cup against my head. “You’re dumb.”

“I agree.”

“If you were going to set him up with someone, why not choose someone less attractive?” Fleur says in frustrated tones.

“Or less confident.” Kathleen is no longer watching us so I stare at her profile. Fuck, she is so good-looking. “I think it's because she's tall,” I tell Fleur. I straighten my shoulders and try to appear taller than my five feet five inches. “Tall people have confidence. They're born with it. Look at Ty.”

We all stare.

“They're really good-looking together,” Fleur says in a whisper loud enough to carry across the room.

“I know. They'd have amazing, athletic children.”

We watch as Ty's head dips down to hear Kathleen better. The pretty brunette places a hand on his arm. Despite her height, she still has to rise on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. Whatever she says is funny because Ty throws his head back and roars with laughter. All traces of worry are gone from his handsome face.

Why does seeing him happy make me feel sick?

“Why is he so attractive?” I ask, not really to anyone. “I mean, his body is amazing. He's smart. Nice. I even once saw him help an old lady across the street. For real. It's not fair. He should be ugly.”

“Guys are never really ugly,” Fleur informs us. “They're just different. And they never really age. They just get interesting.”

“This world is so unfair,” I mumble. Leon wisely keeps his mouth shut.

Kathleen suddenly tips forward and Ty catches her, holding her hip firmly in his hand. My eyes start stinging and I force myself to look away.

“Here's to singlehood,” Fleur announces. She raises her cup toward me. Leon reaches up and steadies her shaking hand.

I start to tap my cup against hers and then stop. “You're not even single.”

“In the part of my heart that belongs to you, I am,” she declares.

I look over her head at her boyfriend, who’s watching in amusement. “I knew what I was getting into when I started dating Fleur. I've been hoping that eventually the love you two have for each other would manifest in a sexy threesome but alas…” Leon shrugs.

Fleur shoves an elbow in his gut. “That's disgusting, you perv. My love with Ara is on a higher plane where physicality doesn't matter.”

“That's okay. I like our earthy relationship.” He grins back at her, his round face looking as sweet as the moon.

“Oh, you're the best.”

“I know.”

Fleur grabs his face and the two start aggressively making out. I peer sadly into my empty glass.

“I need more to drink,” I announce, but my friends are too busy sucking each other's faces off to notice that I'm leaving.

I make my way to the bar, trying to avoid Ty, and in the process, I fail to see my ex slide into my path.

“Thanks for coming. I'm sorry I haven't been able to spend any time with you. House stuff. I'll be glad to be done with it,” Matt says, but it doesn't sound genuine. He loves his fraternity. “What do you need?”

“I'm empty.” I show him my cup. “Isn't this a sad sight?”

“The saddest,” he agrees. “What were you drinking?”

“Keg.”

“No way. You're a senior and my guest. I've got some of that Owen Meaney wine you like so much.”

“Dad likes it. I'm not a fan of wine.”

“I bought a couple of bottles the other day at the Wine Rack downtown. You remember that we went to a tasting party there, right? It was for a fall event, right?” He gestures for me to move down the hall.

I glance toward Ty. He’s still engrossed in a conversation with Kathleen. I should be happy for him. He needs someone to make him laugh. He's a serious guy—different from his happy-go-lucky brother. And if the person that makes him laugh is a gorgeous, smart brunette, then why do I feel the need to rescue him? Besides, I’m the one who hooked them up. I made this happen. Go me.

“I also bought this delicious port. I know you don't like port—”

“I don't like wine at all.”

“—which is why I bought the other stuff. Maribeth didn't like wine, so now I get to drink whatever I want, whenever I want without her glaring at me for the entire meal.”

I give up on interrupting Matt. He's too focused on his own world right now.

“That’s one of the best parts about being broken up. Maribeth would be complaining right now about the noise and the smoke.”

My gaze flies to his. “You and Maribeth broke up?”

He stops in surprise. “Yeah. Isn't that why you're here? I told you that this morning. Here. Have a seat.”

Too dumbfounded to say anything, I do as he says and end up next to a girl who looks vaguely familiar.

“Want a hit?” she asks, holding up a joint.

“Pass.”

She takes a drag and then holds it out to Matt.

“You mind?” he says to me.

“Why would I?”

“Maribeth hated it. She said it was low class.” He inhales deeply. “Everything was low class to her. My clothes. My car. The ring I gave her. Of course, she doesn't say that shit in front of Grandmother, but since it's under two carats it's a piece of trash.”

Listening to my ex lament about his ex has to be one of the worst party games in all the world. I turn to the stoned girl. “I'm Ara.”

“I know,” she says, retrieving the joint. “Ty Masters' little friend.”

“Little friend?” I look at Matt for help, but he's gone, off complaining to someone else about Maribeth's evil ways.

“You know. The girl who interferes with all his relationships and screws him between girlfriends.” She takes another drag. “No judgment from me. You've got a good gig. He's stuck with you longer than anyone. I'm sure he'll eventually marry you and then you'll have all his millions to dry your tears at night. Sure you don't want a hit? You look a little worked up.”

“I look a little worked up?” I repeat incredulously. I'm bewildered but not worked up. Hearing that Matt broke up with his girlfriend doesn't upset me. It makes me laugh, if anything, which I won't do because while I'm petty I'm not that petty.

“Yeah, like you could use a joint or five. You smoke a few of these and it doesn't matter if your ex is blathering on about some other woman or the man you love is balls deep in another girl's pussy.” She bobs her head in a slow rhythm. “The weed's your friend.”

The thought of Ty being near another girl's vagina makes me clench my hands into fists. Maybe I am getting worked up. “Thanks anyway, but I'm not in any need of it. And I'm not Ty's anything. We're friends.”

“Uh huh.”

I throw up my hands and get to my feet. “I give up.”

As I'm walking away, I hear her say, “That's the spirit.”

Matt's in deep conversation with a frat bother and I'm able to escape without hearing another story about how terrible Maribeth is. I'm not drunk enough for this party, I decide. I make a beeline to the bar.

Behind the counter I spot someone I know. “Joe! Joe!” I yell, climbing halfway up the bar to get his attention. The young fraternity brother finally acknowledges me with a wave.

“What's up, Ara?”

“I'm thirsty. What kind of shots do you have?”

“Jack. Vodka. What do you want?”

“Vodka. And don't put it in a shot glass. Dump what you have left there into a cup and I won't bother you again.” I point to the half-full bottle on the back counter.

“The whole thing?” he asks with alarm.

I direct a stern glare in his direction. “Do I need to tell one of your older brothers how you dissed Matt Weitzel’s girlfriend?” It's an empty threat, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

“You two are back together?” Joe's eyes grow wide. “I didn't know. I'll get you the drink. Hold on.”

He comes back with a glass nearly filled to the brim with vodka. I could go to the hospital if I drank all this, but I merely give Joe a wink of thanks and waddle off to find Fleur and Leon.

Unfortunately, when I arrive Ty is there. His hands are on his hips and he has a mean look on his face. Business Barbie is nowhere to be found. I take a long sip of the vodka and shudder as the cheap liquor slides down my throat.

“Where with Matt did she go? Outside? His room?”

I tap the big guy on his shoulder. “You looking for me?”

“Thank God, Ara. I thought he was going to kill us,” Fleur cries, flinging herself into my arms. Vodka sloshes over the rim of the cup and down my arm.

“Where the hell have you been?” Ty growls, filching the cup from my hand.

I grab it back and down some more.

“What is wrong with you tonight?” Again, he tries to take the drink from me.

I fend him off long enough to swallow two more big gulps. By the time he wrestles it away, half of the glass is in my stomach.

“Gimme that back. Get your own cup of vodka. This one's mine.”

He tips the cup over and pours the rest of the booze onto the floor. “Oh, look here. Your glass is empty. Now tell me why you wandered off on your own.”

“I didn't wander off.” I try to frown, but I can't feel much of my face anymore. “I was with…” I trail off, because I don't remember who I was just with. I should remember, but it's all looking real fuzzy at the moment.

Leon appears at my other side. “You got Ara?” he asks.

“Of course I have myself,” I declare. I throw out my arms to show what a firm grip I have on myself and do a nosedive toward the floor.

Two strong arms catch me. “I've got her.”

And those three words, more than the vodka, make me warm all over. So warm that I pass out.