It was Spring Fling. It was legal. The campus expected us to be a complete and royal shitfaced mess. It was ok to have
bottles filled to
brim. A shot of run. Bodies
lay on rugged stairs.
I had lost count of my drinks. That was the first mistake. I had been crowned Champion of Beer Pong for the night. I could put that on a resume, right? But who is the boy laying next to me? I was not looking for love. His tossled hair screaming
sweat. Heated kisses.
Two animals on the Discovery
Channel, biting, mating.
What had I done? Had I remembered my birth control? Oops. Maybe it was time for a trip to CVS. The sunshine struggled to reach me through the blinds, light for the future. It blinded me as I pushed it away. The future hurt.
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