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Liza

“ Y ou’re really hitting Bourbon Street the night before you leave for college?” My sister, Willow, rolls her eyes and shakes her head in faux disappointment. She sits cross-legged on the carpeted floor of my bedroom as I apply my makeup for the night.

“For the hundredth time, yes . I want to have a little fun so I can leave this place on a good memory.” My body rattles with excitement, nerves, and the anticipation of what tonight may bring. But most of all, sadness ripples through me like a current that won’t leave the shore.

I pop a few curls in my dirty-blonde hair to polish off the night’s look. I elected for a tight, black crop-top that shows off enough cleavage to gain interest paired with my favorite leather leggings to hug what little curves I have. It’s risky, but I’m out for revenge.

“Dad will be so thankful that you’re the one who leaves New Orleans.” She rolls her eyes, but follows up with an escaped laugh.

“He’s counting down the seconds until he can be free of the child that is constantly teetering the line of ruining the family name .

” I throw my hands up in air quotes and do my best snooty impression of our dad.

Although my dad isn’t afraid to show his moments of disapproval when I turn up hungover after a weekend of partying, he loves both of us unconditionally.

I’m not supposed to leave. Shaking my head, I fight back that thought before bile rises from my stomach into my throat.

“Yet again, the fate of this family lies on my humble shoulders,” Willow says as we both let out obnoxious laughs that can’t seem to stop. I grab her shoulders to steady myself from the lack of oxygen from laughing so hard.

“It always has, baby girl.” I shoot her a mischievous look and purse my shiny lips. Willow is two years younger than me, but more often than not she feels like the older one.

“Don’t forget to call me when you need a ride,” Willow reminds me with a worried look etched in her brow.

“Do I ever forget?” I throw her a wink before turning back toward the mirror.

“No,” she chews her fingernail before finishing, “just with everything that happened with Layne…” She stands up from her spot on the carpet to meet me in front of the vanity mirror. She lays her head on my shoulder and shoots me a sympathetic smile. “If you need me, call. Okay?”

As we stare at each other through the mirror, I put on my best fake smile to assure her that everything is right in the world.

“I’m okay. I promise.” I do my best to convince my little sister that I can handle this.

Going out the night before I drive hours to Springs U isn't self-destructive. It’s definitely not because my boyfriend of four years, whom I planned my entire future around, cheated on me without a second thought less than a month ago.

Willow pulls me into a tight hug, squeezing her arms into my ribs.

The kind of hug you give when you’re deeply worried that the person you’re holding isn’t okay.

“Don’t let him get in your head.” Her muffled reminder sets my jaw tight, but before she can see that, I wipe the hurt off my face and detach myself from the little worry-wart.

Honking vibrates through our French Quarter townhouse, alerting me to the fact that my ride is here.

“See you later, stink.” I flip my hair over one shoulder and paint on my best game face for the night ahead.

My ex-boyfriend, Layne, may have derailed my plans for the future, but tonight, I’m going to show him exactly what he gave up.

Growing up in New Orleans with a flower-child mom and a high profile lawyer for a dad isn’t the easiest, but you get used to it.

My parents are polar opposites and have been separated for as long as I remember.

They get along fine for the sake of Willow and I, but aren’t friends by any stretch of the imagination.

When we became old enough to choose where we wanted to live, my choice was a no brainer.

Mom and I always clicked. We’re both guided by our hearts, not our heads.

We live in the moment, and we don’t get caught up in mainstream success.

Willow, on the other hand, is my dad’s clone.

If intensity, drive, work ethic, and seriousness could be bottled up into one person, Willow Wilde would be it.

It made the most sense for her to live with him.

Although we couldn’t be more different, Willow has always been my best friend.

It helps that our parents live two streets away from each other, so we could walk to either house any time we wanted.

The worry on her face tonight made me want to curl up in a ball and spill my guts out to her, but I can’t.

If I do, I give Layne power over my thoughts.

I don’t need him to ruin a good night. I refuse to let that happen.

“Ayy! There she is,” Zane hollers out the window.

Giggling all the way to the car, I open the back passenger door and squeeze in with the rest of my friends, placing my backpack purse on my lap.

“What are we getting into tonight?” I ask the full car of muscular baseball players.

My ex played with them all throughout high school, but luckily for me, they like me more than him.

They’re all heading to college in a few weeks.

The college we planned to go to together.

“Was thinking Bourbon Street to celebrate our girl’s last night before she leaves us.” Zane throws a pout over his shoulder in the dimly-lit car.

Perfect. Layne's stomping grounds.

“I’m gonna miss y’all so much.” I lean my head on Berkley’s shoulder who’s entirely too big for the middle seat.

“Do you really have to leave NOLA, Liza?” Berkeley asks.

“You know the answer to that.” I gulp down my feelings about leaving my best friends for Florida in the morning. Leaving my comfort zone to start a brand new life is terrifying. Mix in the fact that I’m fresh off a breakup and you get a hot mess.

This wasn’t the plan. We were all supposed to go to NOLA South University together.

That is, until Layne decided a one-night-stand was worth throwing it all away.

That’s when I made the last minute decision to enroll in Springs U.

I can’t stay here with the memory of what could have been etched into every path of my future.

I refuse to be the sulking shadow, watching him achieve all of his dreams.

“One last hurrah then.” Berkeley bumps my knee with his.

“Cheers to that.” I kiss him lightly on the cheek, careful not to leave lip gloss residue, before I spend my last night in New Orleans in the bottom of a bottle.

“Shots!” I shout from the top of the worn down bar, my stomping grounds for as long as I could remember. I vaguely remember climbing up, but my vision is so blurry that I don’t know if I managed to do it without making a fool of myself.

“I think you’ve had enough.” Zane chuckles as he reaches for my waist to pull me off the bar. I cross my arms over my chest as I stumble to gain any solid footing tonight. Zane’s family owns this bar, so when we show up with him, we aren’t carded.Only close friends get this kind of treament.

“And I don’t,” I say, slurring the ‘t.’

I try to scoot around him back to the bartender, but I’m met with a blurry figure shaking his head and mouthing, “You’re cut off.”

“Lameeeeee,” I drawl out before stumbling back to the dance floor.

Rolling my hips to the music helps drown out the pain and suffering that has consumed me since the day I walked in on Layne hooking up with someone else at a friend’s party.

I was prepared to see him tonight. What I wasn’t prepared for was to see beautiful girls draped on each of his strong arms as I entered the bar.

Girls who are prettier, older, and more confident than me.

Layne smirked when he caught sight of me with his two teammates, but it didn’t do much to deter him from his arm candy he continued to give all of his attention to.

A guy shimmies behind me and grabs hold of the fabric tightly coated on my waist. I lean my head back and rock my hips into him in an attempt to create a show for Layne in direct sight.

My eyes roam to check if he’s watching, but his attention is honed in on the girls.

The lights flicker around my drunken haze, and I’m suddenly dizzy from the overwhelming pain that is my life at the current moment.

I planned to drink tonight, but I didn’t plan to get as wasted as I currently am. Oh well. You win some, you lose some.

“Last call!” rings around the packed bar from the bartenders as Zane and Berkeley find me in the crowd.

“Time to go home. You have a long drive in the morning.” I wrap one arm around each of them to allow them to guide my weight out of the bar.

“Where is everyone?” I slur out.

“Some are bouncing to another spot. We need to get you home.”

Luckily, the boys called a rideshare so Willow doesn’t have to see me like this.

Not like she hasn’t seen it before, but I’d like to limit her worry.

Once the boys place me in the middle of both of them in the small car, the floodgates open.

The ringing in my ear vibrates so loud that I can’t process what the boys are telling me.

Rubbing smudged mascara from my cheek becomes my fixation until I can choke out words to process my drunk emotions.

“W-Why wasn’t I good enough?” I whimper in a mixture of anger and devastation.

“You’re too good for him.”

“Better now than later.”

“You’ll find someone else.”

The boys continue to pacify me with the same lines I’ve been fed by everyone around me since it happened. My breathing becomes quicker and what’s left of my tear-coated vision blurs around the edges. That’s the last thing I remember.