Your throat burns with another white gummy bear shooter. You and your friends grab your drinks and get back onto the dance floor.

You were surprised when the group of military wives you’d befriended invited you out for drinks. You had only just started dating a lieutenant, which you knew probably influenced their decision to befriend you, but you weren’t one to complain, always seeing the good in people.

You had promised Simon you’d text him every hour just to let him know you’re okay. He had been wary to watch you go out with a group of people he’d never met before. He’s been waiting anxiously at home as two hours have passed and he’s received no word from you. You were supposed to text him at midnight what time you wanted to be picked up, and now it’s nearly one. He grabs his coat, heading to his truck.

You’re five shots and four mixed drinks deep and have completely forgotten about your agreement with your boyfriend. You’re having too much fun. You finish your drink and frown when you notice the group of girls you came with are off doing their own things. Before you can read too much into the situation, you hear a familiar voice. “{{user}}?” And based on the pitch and tone, you know you’re in trouble. The alcohol in your system makes it so you don’t care. You turn to look at Simon, a dopey smile on your face.