Yesterday, I opened my eyes to sunlight already blazing through the window, stabbing at me with no mercy. My head pounded like a drum being played by a particularly angry toddler, and my mouth tasted like something had died in it ten days ago. I groaned and whispered to no one in particular, “Shit...”

The memories came back in fragments. Loud, messy, and out of order. Flashes of laughter, music, sweat, Jamie’s too-perfect smile. I didn’t bother trying to piece them together.

What was the point? They’d just hurt more in focus.

I forced myself to sit up, and the world immediately tilted like a sinking ship. My stomach lurched as I stumbled to the bathroom. I dropped to my knees in front of the toilet and dry heaved, but nothing came out. Just the bitter sting of nausea and self-loathing.

“Hey, buddy. You okay?” Tracy’s voice came from the doorway.

I looked up. She was standing there, arms crossed, her face tight with concern.

“No...” I mumbled, spitting into the bowl.

She didn’t move. Just watched me with that look that made me feel even worse, like I was a broken thing she didn’t know how to fix.

I washed my face, downed a handful of water from the tap, and then crawled back into bed like I was returning to a grave. Tracy followed silently, her presence trailing behind me like a shadow.

“Why do you do this to yourself, Troy?” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, and somehow that hurt more than if she’d yelled.

“I don’t know,” I said. It was the truth, even if it sounded like a lie.

She sat on the edge of the bed. “Weren’t you going to that party with Chris?”

The question hit harder than I expected, a sharp twist to the gut. I looked away, but it was too late. The memory surged back like a riptide, dragging me under.

“He stood me up,” I said flatly.

“What do you mean?”

“You heard me. He didn’t show. Didn’t text me back. Probably just changed his mind.”

She tilted her head, frowning. “Maybe something happened. That doesn’t sound like him.”

I snapped, the bitterness bleeding through my voice before I could stop it. “How would you know? You don’t even know him!”

The words hung there, heavier than I intended. I turned away, ashamed. “Just... forget it.”

She didn’t argue. Instead, she pulled out her phone and held it out to me. “Have you seen the photo yet?”

“What photo?”

She handed it over. On the screen was a blurry selfie of Jamie and me, grinning like idiots. It was already up on his feed for the whole damn school to see.

I groaned and dropped my head back onto the pillow.

“There it is,” Tracy said. “Social suicide, captured in 720p.”

She wasn’t wrong, though.

“I know, Tracy,” I said, the fight gone from my voice.

At our school, Jamie was the final stop on the social food chain. Everyone knew it. He’d hooked up with half the student body. I don’t have much going for me, but I’ve been clinging to what little dignity I have like it’s a life raft.

And Jamie—Jesus Christ, Jamie didn’t make it easy. It wasn’t just that he was hot. It was the way he carried himself. Effortless. Confident. Like nothing could touch him. He wasn’t even my type. Typical jock. Tall, cocky, a walking cliché. But I was human. And a little desperate. Okay, maybe more than a little.

There was something about him that was magnetic, not in a forced way. Not in a try-hard way. Just... natural. Dangerous.

But I wasn’t that desperate. Not yet.

“So... did you and Jamie...?”

“No!” I said quickly. “We were just hanging out.”

“That’s good news.”

I picked up my phone. A message from Chris lit up the screen.

Too late, asshole, I thought.

I sighed. “How did I even get home?”

“Jamie sent me a message. And Matt and I picked you up,” she said. “You puked all over the front porch. Twice. Dad had to hoist you up the stairs.”

When your sister and her boyfriend have to fish you out of a party because you're too wasted to know your own name, your dignity is gone. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. I’d never felt like this in my entire life.

“Shit... I’ve fucked up...”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Are you mad at me?” I felt my voice slip away.

“No, silly. I'm just worried. What if Jamie hadn't told me? You could’ve gotten lost, run over, or kidnapped by some creep.”

Thank God. If she’d said yes, I don’t know what I would’ve done with myself.

Before I could reply, I heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.

The door burst open without a knock.

Mom.

“Are you proud of yourself?” she barked said.

“No...” I muttered.

She stepped into the room like a storm front. “I swear to God, Troy. I have no idea what goes through that head of yours. All you care about is partying, drinking, smoking, girls—”

I glanced at Tracy, confused. She looked like she was about to laugh.

Mom wasn’t done, though. “Getting that drunk could ruin your life. You could catch an STD, get a girl pregnant—”

Tracy cut in, deadpan. “Yeah, Mom, pretty sure you don’t need to worry about the last one.”

I glared at her. Not the time.

“You think this is funny, Tracy?” Mom snapped. “You think bad things only happen to other people? Huh?”

“No, Mom...”

“Go to your room. This is between your brother and me.”

Tracy gave me one last sympathetic look before slipping out.

Mom turned her full attention on me. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you anymore, Troy. Your grades last year were awful. You come home drunk all the time. You’re wasting your life.”

“I know...” I said quietly.

“You always say that. But you keep doing the same things over and over again. You used to be such a sweet, good kid. What happened to you?”

I stared at her. I didn’t have an answer.

Truth is, I want to know that too.

“We’ve decided,” she said. “You’re grounded. No more parties. No more drinking. No more nothing. School, home. Home, school. That’s it. And you’re getting a job. We’re done giving you money so you can burn it away on God knows what. You want to act like an adult? Fine. Get a job, then.”

“Okay...” It was all I could say.

She stood there, waiting maybe for an argument, maybe for an apology. Something to prove I still cared.

I rolled over and closed my eyes instead.

Conversation over.