I got hammered at prom. Properly, stupidly hammered. Hammered enough that Kelsey Richards thought she could just stick her tongue in my mouth and get me to bend her over the nearest desk. I suppose I couldn't really blame her, the tactic had mostly been successful for her in the past.

But after she grabbed me - and after I, in my drunken state, just assumed that it was Tasha before bothering to check - and then after I realized what had happened, I was overcome by an almost overwhelming feeling of revulsion. Not just at the smell of her overpriced perfume or the taste of her cigarette smoke-tinged kisses, but at everything going on around me. All the stupid, drunk football players who knew they didn't have to be anything other than football players and everyone was going to worship them. They didn't have to be smart or funny or interesting or anything except football players. Steve Carlson was obviously looking for a fight, too - or to get into Kelsey's pants - so I was done. Maybe it was the alcohol heightening my emotions but I felt more done than I ever had before with that crowd. It didn't enter my conscious mind at the time but Tasha was the reason. She was simply a better person than all of them. She was brave and sweet and sharp as a tack and spending time with her meant I would never again be able to hang out with simpering cheerleaders and buffoonish sports jocks (even if I was one) without feeling a sense of what I was missing.

So I blundered out into the hallway with one aim in mind: finding Natasha Greeley and spending the rest of the one and only prom night of our lives with her. Unfortunately, I'd had so much to drink that the rest of the night is, at best, a blur. I vaguely remember looking for her in the gym and coming up empty. Even her friends weren't there. Had she left without me?

The sun was up by the time I could string two thoughts together again. I pushed myself up on my elbows and looked around to try and figure out where the hell I was. I was on a couch. But I wasn't at home. I wasn't at Tasha's place, either. My throat was dry. As my consciousness swam through the fog of alcohol from the previous night it struck me that I was very, very thirsty and I got up and went looking for a kitchen to get a glass of water.

Aaron Sokolsky was in the kitchen and without looking up from the scrambled eggs he was making he simply passed me an orange juice container that was sitting out on the counter.

"Drink this, man. You need it."

"Mmph," I said, opening the carton and pouring the sweet liquid down my throat. When that wasn't enough he handed me a glass, which I immediately filled with cold water and drank in its entirety. Then I sat down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table and ran my hands through my hair. Was that - was that pieces of grass falling down onto my t-shirt?

"What the fuck happened, man?" I asked, expecting the usual 'we got wasted and we ended up here' tale. Which was pretty much what Sokolsky said. He told me I'd almost gotten into it with Steve Carlson and the memory of Kelsey Richards came back to me.

"Shit. That girl just doesn't know how to take no for an answer," I commented, watching Aaron as he stirred the eggs around in a frying pan.

"Maybe," he replied, opening the fridge and grabbing a green pepper.

"Maybe?" I asked, laughing because I assumed he was joking. "I told her a hundred times. Hell, I even sat her down and had a nice respectful little chat with her about it."

"Did you?" Aaron asked, looking surprised.

"Yeah, I did. Never done that before. And she still thinks she can come rub herself all over me any damn time she pleases."

Aaron paused for a few seconds as he chopped up the pepper. "I don't know man," he said, eventually. "I think she just really likes you. I mean, she's had a huge thing for you since eleventh grade. How did you think she was going to act after she finally got the quarterback - and the guy she's been making googly eyes at for years - naked?"

There was no joking in Aaron's tone. He was being serious. It annoyed me. "Hold up," I said, making an effort to keep my irritation out of my voice and probably failing. "I told you I had a talk with her. I was really clear, too. Didn't give her any false hope, none of that bullshit. And she still thinks it's cool to come up behind me and grope me because - just because she wants to?"

Sokolsky brought two plates of scrambled eggs and two forks to the table, setting one plate and one fork down in front of me. "Eat, Kaden."

I tucked in, suddenly ravenous. Aaron was looking at me disapprovingly, I could feel it.

"What?" I asked, through a mouthful of eggs. "I fucking told her, man. I told her I wasn't interested."

"Yeah," Aaron replied, slowly, like he was choosing his words carefully. "But you told her after you fucked her, Kaden. You knew she was into you. It's cool you had a chat with her and all but what did you think was going to happen? You know how girls get when they like someone. Hell, some of them get like that when you sleep with them even if they don't like you."

I didn't have an immediate reply. Aaron was right. I had known Kelsey was into me. It's probably one of the main reasons I slept with her in the first place - because we were partying and I was lazy. I knew she'd go for it. As for the consequences, I hadn't thought of those. It wasn't really something I did back then - think of consequences.

"I'm not trying to be a dick," Aaron said, picking up on the fact that I was slightly pissed. "I'm only saying this because I've been there and because you're basically the only other guy on the team I think might even give a small shit about this stuff. It's just, I mean, it's hard to talk about this without sounding like a giant pussy, right? But I don't want to be a dick, you know? And I don't think you want to be a dick. And treating people the way a lot of the football players treat people is a dick move. You know you shouldn't have touched Kelsey Richards, don't you? I can see it on your face, you want to be mad at me but that's only because you know I'm right."

I chuckled and shook my head because there was no other possible response. He had me. "Yeah, man. I know. It's weird, right? It's not even like I set out to act like an asshole - to Kelsey or to any of those girls - I just didn't even think about it at all."

"Yeah, I know," Aaron said, gathering scrambled eggs onto his fork. "That's why it's a dick move. I'm honestly not trying to give you shit - all of this stuff applies to me, too. I guess I'm just trying to be less of a dick these days. By the way, you got plans for today?"

I immediately thought of Tasha. "Not sure. Let me text Tasha and see what's up with her."

"Choose your words carefully, man."

"What?" I asked, confused.

Aaron just shook his head like I was the biggest idiot in the world. "Dude. It was our high school prom last night. You were passed out in the back of Jake's truck by midnight and we drove you home at around three. Tasha's probably not going to be too happy with you is what I'm saying."

Fuck. He was right. It was all coming back to me - the promise to meet her back in the gym after a brief interlude so we could both spend time with her friends. "Fuck," I said, out loud that time. "Fuck."

"Text her. Tell her you're a dumb asshole and that you'll make it up to her. And then make it up to her - and I'm telling you right now it's going to take more than flowers. Prom is a big deal to girls."

So I did as instructed and sent Tasha a text:

"Really, really sorry about last night. I'm a dumb, stupid, drunk asshole and I want to make it up to you."

When there was no reply within a couple of minutes I tried calling her but it went straight to messages. Maybe she'd had her own wild night without me? A little stab of jealousy or insecurity sliced through my stomach and I pushed the thoughts of what Tasha might have gotten up to right back down where they came from.

"Let's go for a swim," Aaron said, pulling his shirt off and heading out the sliding glass door towards his family's huge, sparkling blue pool. "She probably needs a little time to cool off. She'll get back to you."

But Tasha didn't need a "little" time to cool off. And she didn't get back to me. By six o'clock that evening there was still nothing - no call, no text, no e-mail. Nothing.

"She's pissed," Aaron said. "I mean, if you're going to date someone like Natasha Greeley, you're going to have to get used to that."

"What the fuck does that mean?" I asked, assuming he was insulting Tasha and feeling my blood rising slightly at the possibility.

"Calm down, Kaden, I'm not dissing her. It's the opposite. Listen to me. You're used to cheerleaders, right? Girls like Kelsey Richards? It's all any of us football players are used to. And you have to get it through your skull - those girls are basically groupies. I mean, Little Falls is full of them, I admit, but it's not like we've got anything else going on here other than football, right? Anyway, girls like Tasha - and Amber aren't groupies. You can't just do whatever you want and expect her to be there with a big forgiving smile on her face whenever you fuck up. And it looks like you fucked up. So maybe it takes her a day or two to cool down, but she will eventually. And then you apologize and you make it up to her. And the making it up part is key. Smart girls, girls with their shit together - they don't put up with bullshit, Kaden. If you screw up, you own it and you make it better. The sooner you learn that the better."

I laughed and slapped Aaron on the back. "Damn, man. When did you turn into such a wise old man?"

"Amber," he replied, plainly. "She kicked my ass, bro. And it needed kicking, too. That's the thing about those girls, the good ones. They kick your ass when it really needs kicking."

So I spent rest of the day with Sokolsky and neither of us felt like going out drinking again that night. His girlfriend was spending time with relatives an hour away and my girlfriend - I didn't know what my girlfriend was doing. We hit the grocery store, got some beer (not enough to do any further damage, though) and floated around on inflatable pool toys, relaxing.

Although it was never fully relaxing for me because Tasha was constantly there at the forefront of my mind. Aaron kept trying to reassure me but every unanswered text and every call that went straight to messages just contributed to a growing sense of dread that I was praying was due to paranoia or my hangover.

After spending another night at Aaron's I went home the next day. My mom found me sitting in the living room, staring at my phone and doing calculations in my head. The last time I'd spoken to her was, I guessed, around nine p.m. on prom night. That meant it was over forty hours - almost forty-eight hours, two full days - since we'd communicated.

"Hi, honey," my mom said, coming over and kissing me on the head. "How was it? It's Sunday so I assume it went well? Thanks for texting your father to let us know you were staying at Aaron's. Do you have any photos?"

"Mom, didn't you take enough photos?" I asked, recalling the interminable, almost two-hour long photo shoot before I'd left to go to the actual prom.

"Sure I did, Kaden," she said and I could tell from the slightly hurt tone in her voice that she'd caught the snappiness in mine. "But that doesn't mean I'm not interested in seeing more. I want to see a few of you and Tasha, too."

"Sorry, mom," I apologized. "I didn't mean to bite your head off. I think I'm just pretty tired. Can I show you the photos later?"

"That would be nice, honey."

The rest of the weekend passed by in a blur of confusion and stress - stress from not knowing what was going on with Tasha and from having to put up a front that everything was fine to my parents. Then Monday came and went. And Tuesday. Tasha never seemed to be at her locker, and the complete radio silence was ongoing. On Wednesday, I ran into Tasha's best friend Lena, just outside the gymnasium after gym class. I smiled but she blanked me, looking away and saying nothing when I went further and said hi. I could have walked away but her reaction just pissed me off. So I'd gotten way too drunk at prom and failed to meet up with my girlfriend at the appointed time. The way she was looking at me you'd think I'd murdered someone.

"Really?" I snapped, as Lena gazed into the distance, determined not to acknowledge me. I continued anyway. She wasn't deaf, she could hear me. "I understand if Tasha's upset with me but this is a little childish, don't you think? I'm the devil because I drank too much at prom?"

Lena deigned to look in my direction, running her eyes coolly over me. "Drank too much at prom?" She asked, one eyebrow raised disdainfully. "Is that what happened, Kaden?"

"Yes!" I replied, confused at her tone, which seemed to imply I had done much worse than had too much to drink. "That is what happened. And I just think you're being a little dramatic about it, is all."

"Dramatic?" She asked, locking her eyes onto mine. It was only then that I noticed. Lena wasn't being bitchy. She was furious. Her eyes were narrowed into slits and she was actually breathing quickly.

"What the fuck?" I asked, even more confused. "Why do you look like you want to kill me? Have I missed something?"

"You didn't see us, did you?"

I took a deep breath, determined not to lose my temper and come out looking like an immature asshole. "I didn't see you where? Look, you're obviously beyond pissed, I can see that. But Tasha isn't talking to me - as I'm sure you know - so if you want to tell me what the hell is going on here, I would appreciate it."

Lena continued, as if I hadn't said anything. "You didn't see us, but we saw you, Kaden. Tash and I, we went looking for you after you didn't come back to the gym for over two hours. When we did find you, you were all over Kelsey Richards. Had your tongue about halfway down her throat if I'm remembering correctly, didn't you?"

Oh shit. They saw that? Tasha saw that? "No," I said as my brain scrambled to find the right words. "No, Lena, that isn't - goddammit, that isn't what-"

"So that wasn't you? You didn't have your hand on her ass? You weren't kissing her? That's weird, Kaden, because it certainly looked like you."

Fuck. I could feel anger rising in my chest in response to her tone - at her obvious disinterest in hearing me out. "No!" I said, barely keeping my voice below a shout. "No, that is not what fucking happened, Lena."

"Whatever, Kaden. I've got to go to class now so you have a nice day."

And then she walked away, leaving me red-faced and spluttering in the hallway. I called out to her to wait, to give me a chance, but she didn't even turn around.

I was so angry after that interaction, and my mind so unwilling to accept the underlying total fuck-up, that I just wandered the halls for a few minutes, breathing heavily and then, eventually, punching a random locker so hard the door came off the hinges. It was only then, staring dumbly down at my reddening knuckles, that I could wrap my head around the truth. Tasha had seen what had happened between me and Kelsey. She had no idea that I had been convinced it was her! The first emotion I experienced that wasn't anger was simply hurt. Tasha thought I could do that? That I would do that?

I had to talk to her. That was it, there was nothing else to be done, I had to see her face to face. And how the hell was I going to do that with her avoiding me and refusing to respond to any of my messages? I was going to have to go to her house. Yeah, I should have thought about it a little before blundering off to where she lived, but I was in a panic at that point, desperate to tell her the truth, to assure her that I hadn't intended to cheat on her in any way.