Make Me Hate You

The hot, white flames of the bonfire licked at the cool night sky as I wrapped my jacket tighter around me, trying to sip on the beer in my hand, but grimacing every time I managed a gulp.

I’d gone too hard, too fast at the karaoke bar, and now I was dancing between being too drunk or being hungover way too early — depending on how the rest of this night went.

I’d had a blast at the bar, but once we’d loaded back on the party bus to head back to the Wagner’s for the afterparty, I’d started slipping.

And I kept going back to my earlier thoughts about me and Morgan and Tyler and the day that everything changed.