# Chapter 1:

Melinda's POV

I stood in front of the mirror, my heart beating faster than usual, barely recognizing myself. The tight black mini skirt hugged my thighs, while the pink crop top perfectly showcased the waistline I usually kept well-hidden beneath loose clothing. And these heels—my toes were already protesting. This outfit was worlds apart from my everyday jeans and baggy hoodies, but Olivia had insisted that a twenty-first birthday party demanded something "sexy."

"This is how the birthday girl should look," she'd told me, "Mel, you can't possibly attend your own birthday party wearing a lab coat, can you?"

My fingers unconsciously combed through my chestnut hair, the familiar sensation helping me regain some composure. At least my hairstyle remained unchanged—bangs with a high ponytail, this familiar look like an old friend, offering me a sense of security amid this strange attire. I grabbed the talisman necklace from my bedside and put it on, feeling the cool metal warm against my skin. My foster parents had given it to me on my sixteenth birthday—the only thing I knew that was connected to my birth parents.

I took a deep breath, feeling butterflies in my stomach. Tonight was supposed to be special. Not just because it was my birthday party, but because Jason had promised to make our relationship public. We'd been secretly dating for months, but as a star player on Pine Ridge University's basketball team, he claimed he needed to "pick the right moment" to go public. Tonight was that moment, or so he'd said.

I checked my lipstick in the mirror, feeling my cheeks flush. I'd even prepared myself mentally to lose my virginity—if everything went according to plan. The thought sent a warm current rising from my abdomen, only to be interrupted by a chill.

I took one last look at myself, forcing a confident smile. You can do this, Melinda. This is your night.

I stepped out of my bedroom, and Olivia immediately squealed with excitement: "Wow! Mel, you look so—" her big brown eyes sparkled, "absolutely sexy! The guys will go crazy for you!"

I laughed self-consciously, not mentioning Jason. Even my closest roommates didn't know about our relationship.

"Don't exaggerate," I said, "it's just a change of clothes."

Zoe looked up from the couch, her deep purple short hair particularly striking under the apartment lights. She took a sip of beer, shifting her gaze from her phone screen to me.

"Not bad," she assessed in her characteristic low voice, "at least you don't look like you're headed to the anatomy lab."

That was Zoe—always cold and direct, but I knew it was her way of being friendly.

"People should be arriving any minute," she said, looking back down at her phone.

Just then, the apartment door burst open, and the first guests poured in with laughter and clinking bottles. Olivia immediately rushed to greet them, turning up the music, while I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure what to do. Zoe remained seated on the couch, as if the party had nothing to do with her. The only reason she attended parties was probably for the alcohol and to observe "human stupidity," as she called it.

Soon our apartment was packed. Flashing lights painted the space in red, green, and blue, while deafening music made conversation nearly impossible. Guests started drinking and playing games, with the beer pong table becoming the activity center as guys competed there, shouting and cheering. Others gathered in the seating area playing drinking games or smoking and chatting on the balcony.

I looked around, searching for Jason. The party had been going for nearly an hour, but he hadn't shown up yet. Just when I started worrying he wouldn't come, I spotted him entering the room and immediately felt my heartbeat quicken. He looked amazing in a well-fitted dark blue shirt and jeans, his golden hair carefully styled. Jason White, one of Pine Ridge University's basketball stars, and my boyfriend.

But to my confusion, he didn't even glance in my direction. He went straight to the beer pong table, joining his teammates. I waited a few minutes, hoping he'd notice me and come say hello, but he remained immersed in the game, completely ignoring my existence.

Finally, I gathered my courage and decided to approach him. I squeezed through the crowded room to his side and gently touched his arm.

"Hi, Jason," I said, my voice trembling slightly from nervousness, "can we talk? About... you know..."

Jason turned, looking at me with unusually cold eyes, almost impatient. He gestured to his teammates to pause, then turned to me.

"Look, not now," he said quietly, "I'm in the middle of a game."

He turned back to the game, completely dismissing me as if I were a stranger. I stood there, feeling my cheeks burn, not knowing how to react. We'd been making out in the bathroom just yesterday, and now he was pretending not to know me? What was going on?

"Are you okay?"

I turned to see Olivia standing behind me, holding an extra beer.

"I'm fine," I shrugged, quickly finishing my beer, "just not big on parties, that's all."

Olivia pouted, handing me the beer. "You just need some liquid courage, that's all!" She clinked my bottle, then took a big gulp of her own.

I looked down at the beer, frowning. Olivia might be right, but one beer wouldn't be enough to deal with Jason's attitude tonight.

"How about vodka?" I suddenly suggested.

Olivia's eyes lit up, and she turned toward the crowd, cupping her hands around her mouth:

"Hey everyone! Birthday girl wants shots!"

The next hour became a blur of memories. I remember downing shot after shot of vodka, each accompanied by cheers and well-wishes. I remember seeing Jason laughing and talking with people across the room, never looking in my direction. I remember the churning in my stomach after the last shot went down.

By the tenth shot, I felt dizzy and nauseated, knowing I was going to be sick. I staggered through the dancing crowd, down the hallway to the bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time.

After throwing up, my mind cleared somewhat. I struggled to my feet, hands braced on the cool sink to steady myself. The cold water splashing on my face felt like a gentle slap, pulling me back from my drunken haze. I looked up at myself in the mirror—my makeup smudged, eyeliner smeared, red lipstick barely visible, strands of hair escaping from my high ponytail.

I wiped the residue from the corner of my mouth with a tissue, blinking to focus my vision. Alcohol flowed through my veins, but confusion clearly occupied my thoughts. What was wrong with Jason tonight? Just days ago, he said tonight would be special.

Maybe he's just nervous, I told myself, maybe he doesn't know how to make our relationship public in front of so many people.

But if he really cared about me, shouldn't he at least...

I forced myself to breathe deeply, pushing down the bitterness rising in my throat. **This is your birthday, Melinda. And it's your party. No self-pity tonight, ** I told myself, You need an explanation. And you should go get one.