Thankfully, the door was unlocked, just the way Joe always left it. There wasn't a high crime rate in Casper, especially when everyone knew everyone else's business. I made my way down the short hallway to her room and laid her gently on the bed. Her duffel was on the floor so I picked it up and put it and her purse on the desk. It amazed me how little this room had changed in the last three years. Even though I saw Joe on a regular occasion, I always made sure to avoid Mallory's room. The memories haunted me.

"You coming to bed?" she asked.

I turned to her, shocked. She lay on her side, her arm outstretched toward me. She crooked her finger at me and a smile spread across her lips.

"Come on, Jason, let's go to bed," she whispered.

Jason? It made sense that she would have moved on, but hearing another man's name on her lips only crushed me further. It was bad enough I wanted her again, but she was seeing someone? Pain cursed through my body and I fled the room, praying she wouldn't remember this moment in the morning.

I made it to the tailgate before I threw up behind my truck. Everything I ate came back full force. It wasn't my finest moment. Lucky for me, there was no one to share in my misery.

Headlights appeared at the end of the driveway and I wished I could make myself invisible. I recognized Baker's truck before he reached me. I even managed to quit vomiting and wipe my mouth on my sleeve. No reason my best friend needed to see me like this.

"You okay?" he asked when pulled up. He turned the lights off and hung out his window.

"Just peachy," I muttered.

Baker had a tendency to see through me, and I didn't exactly want him digging into what happened tonight.

"Mallory f.u.c.king Wells. Did you think she would ever come back?" he asked.

I tried to disengage the conversation before it got out of hand. "I don't know what I thought, man. I'm not feeling so hot, though. I'm going to head home."

"Oh, cool. I'll follow you over. I need a beer."

Baker had a habit of inviting himself over. I wasn't impressed, but I couldn't exactly tell him the reason he couldn't come over was that I wanted to wallow in self-pity, so I nodded and jumped in my truck. Baker followed me to my place. After I grabbed us a couple of beers, I sat in my old man recliner and Baker sprawled out on my couch. I turned the TV on ESPN and waited for the inquiry. To my surprise, he wasn't interested in talking about Mallory.

"Man, did you see how smokin' hot Rainey was tonight? LA has been good for that girl," he said. "I made a total a.s.s of myself, though."

I chuckled. "You? No way! What happened?"

"Well, when she showed up and handed me her ID, I didn't even recognize her, first of all. Then when I recognized her name, I sort of went on and on about how fat she used to be and how amazing she looks now." He grimaced.

"So, you made a judgment based on a pretty face, or in her case, hot body, and she didn't respond in kind? I can't imagine why not." I barely managed to say it with a straight face. My sarcasm wasn't appreciated.

"Shut up, Luke. I liked her when she was in high school, even with the extra pounds. She was the one who gave me the cold shoulder after prom night, remember?"

I did remember. In her efforts to join forces against me with Mallory after prom, she'd dismissed Baker in every way. I imagined it was difficult for her, since she and Baker actually had a perfect prom night together.

I groaned. "How could I forget? You went on about it all summer."

"I did not," he argued.

"Seriously, do you even remember that summer? 'Luke, she was something special. She gave her virginity to me and then dumped me! What kind of girl does that?' You were one lovesick pup, dude. Maybe even more so than me," I said.

Baker smirked. "No one has even been more love sick over a girl in the history of the earth than you were over Mallory. I never got why you were so into her. She's kind of average looking."

He knew the more he riled my temper, the less likely I was to think about how unfortunate it was that he got laid on prom night and I didn't.

"Screw you. You were just mad you had to settle for her fat friend. And then she went and got skinny, just to show you up," I retorted. I'd never really thought of Rainey as fat; she'd been a little chunky in high school, but I wanted to aggravate Baker more than insult Rainey.

"You're an a.s.s," he said as he took the last swig of his beer and stood. "I'm going to get home, man. Come by the bar tomorrow."

Since he'd bought the bar, he took pride in working a million hours a week.

"Sure thing. Drive slowly," I said with a laugh.

His apartment was two houses down. I knew he wouldn't drive; he would walk home and grab his truck in the morning.

That was the thing about growing up-you eventually turned into a responsible adult. I wondered when Mallory and I would start acting like adults.

SEVEN.

Mallory.

I woke up the next morning to an excessive clanging noise coming from the kitchen. The rattling pots made my head pound even more than it already did. I remembered why I always took ibuprofen before I went out when I lived in Boston. But I hadn't planned on getting so toasted last night. It was all Luke's fault.

Images of the night before flashed in my head and I groaned. I didn't want to remember ruining his relationship with Carrie. He would hold it over my head forever. I had a vague memory of him in the parking lot, but I didn't remember much else. I couldn't even remember how I got home. Ugh, I was a mess.

A knock on my bedroom door had me yanking up the covers.

"You don't have anything I've never seen before, girl. Get up. We have to pick up your dad in an hour," Rainey said matter-of-factly, and then she disappeared down the hall.

"What are you even doing here?" I yelled, slamming my pillow onto my face. "And how are you not hung over?!"

Her face reappeared in the doorway and I lifted my head to look at her smiling face.

"Luke called me. He said he was given specific instructions to leave you alone, but he wanted to make sure you were on time to pick up your dad. It was super sweet of him. And I'm not nursing a hangover because I didn't exactly drink last night," she said conspiratorially. She disappeared again and I sat up slowly.

My head ached, but it wasn't the worst hangover I'd ever had. I could manage. I got out of bed and walked to the kitchen, still clad in my clothes from last night.

Rainey turned to look at me when I entered the kitchen. "It's too bad you slept here, because wearing those clothes again this morning would make for one h.e.l.l of a walk of shame."

"Shut up. Where's the coffee?" I mumbled.

"No coffee, it's bad for a hangover. Here."

She thrust a bottle of water and two ibuprofen in my hands. I wasn't impressed, but I sat on the barstool at the counter and downed the water and pills.

"How did you end up not drunk last night? I saw you have several drinks," I said.

"Well, Jimmy and I kind of have a deal. I never drink alcohol, but he makes the drink colorful and pretty so I can act like I've been drinking. We established the deal when I was home for Christmas and Gabby demanded we go drinking. I'm not much of a drinker," she confessed.

"Oh. Good for you, I guess. It wasn't my intention to have so many, but Gabby kept ordering them and I felt obligated."

"What are you, sixteen? I'd think you would be above peer pressure at twenty-one years old, Mal," she lectured.

"I know, I know," I mumbled again and looked down at my water. "Can I at least have some orange juice?"

"Sure," she said.

Rainey grabbed a gla.s.s and poured me some, setting the gla.s.s and a plate of toast and fruit in front of me.

I felt nauseous just looking at the plate. "I don't think I can eat."

"Eat it. You'll feel better," she promised.

I managed to choke down half a piece of toast and a few grapes. When I pushed the plate away, she sighed.

"You don't eat enough," she complained.

I laughed. "I eat plenty, Mom. I'm trying not to throw up after a night of binge drinking."

Rainey smiled and cleared my plate for me. "Take a shower and we'll get going. We've got to pick up your dad and I want to stop at the store on the way."

I did as she instructed. Thirty minutes later, I was ready to go. Rainey insisted we take her mother's minivan, since it would be easier for Dad to get into. I reluctantly agreed, as a trip to town in a minivan wasn't exactly riding in style.

"Since when do you care about what other people think?" she asked once we were on our way to the hospital.

"I don't," I replied a little too defensively.

She laughed. "Well, you didn't really care about what Luke thought of you last night."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you remember talking to Carrie last night?"

"Luke's girlfriend, right? I'm pretty sure I ruined their relationship." I sighed. "Why would we do that? I am an awful person." I felt lower than dirt for doing it and even worse for not remembering all the details. "I'll have to apologize to Luke."

"You did. He drove you home last night," Rainey said.

"How do you know that? Does the whole town know?" My voice spiked to the point I was nearly shrieking. I couldn't believe how badly this day was turning out to be.

"No, the whole town doesn't know. Luke told me when he called me this morning. He said he tucked you in and nothing happened. When I apologized to him about the whole Carrie situation, he told me you had apologized too and he forgave us. I guess he wasn't really into the relationship, so no harm done," she said.

So not only had I gotten drunk enough not to remember exactly what occurred, Luke was being extra sweet about the whole thing. Just great, I thought.

"Well, I will apologize to him again, when I'm sober and can actually remember doing so," I muttered.

I was appalled by my own behavior. No matter how much I was dealing with, I did not want to be the girl who took out all her frustrations when she was drunk. And on innocent people, no less. Ugh. I needed to call Luke as soon as possible.

"So, did anything else happen last night I should be aware of?" I asked in hopes I wouldn't regret the answer.

"Well, Baker and I talked a bit, since Luke dragged you off and he gave me a ride home." She smirked. "He's the most infuriating man. At the bar, when he realized who I was, he kept stammering on about how fat I used to be."

I protested. "You weren't fat. You were chunky. Millions of people are when they're that age."

"I don't need the confidence boost, Mal. It was just comical to watch him stand there and make a fool of himself. Then, when I'd had enough, I dismissed him. So he insisted he give me a ride home and I had to agree, since you and Gabby thought I'd been drinking. He went on again about my weight and then talked up the way I look now." She mimicked Baker's low voice. "You're so hot."

I laughed.

"It was ridiculous. I told him I was only in town for a week and that it didn't matter how 'hot' I'd become, we were not going to get involved. He tried to convince me to be friends with benefits." She laughed aloud as she pulled into the hospital parking lot.

"Wow, that's direct," I replied. "What did you say?"

"I told him we weren't friends, so being friends with benefits was out of the question." She explained. She parked in the visitor spot closest to the main entrance and we both got out of the minivan. "He still thinks, after all these years, that girls will just fall at his feet. It's infuriating," she growled.

"Well, like you said, you're here for a week and then you'll be gone. He'll forget about you again," I said, hoping it was true for her sake.

We took the elevator to the second floor and I was surprised to see Luke in my father's room when we entered. He looked up, his chocolate brown eyes met mine, and I all but melted into a puddle on the floor.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked politely.

I knew better than to think it was going to be a pleasant conversation. But I agreed. Rainey remained in the room, chatting up my dad while Luke and I stepped out into the hallway.

"I'm sorry," I said immediately.

His look of shock surprised me.

"For what?" he asked.

Was he serious? I thought.

"For what happened last night. I'm still a little foggy, but Rainey filled me in."

"You were drinking, Mal. s.h.i.t happens. Don't sweat it."

His easy acceptance made me feel worse, not better.

"That's not what I wanted to talk to you about," he said.

"Well, thank you for understanding. So what's up?"

"I think maybe you should go back to Boston."

He couldn't have surprised me more if he'd told me to move to the moon.

"Before you get all upset, hear me out. Your dad is going to need intensive, non-stop care when he goes home. And he's going home to die, Mal. It's not like you can just leave him and go to the bar whenever you want," he murmured.

So is that what this is all about, I asked myself.