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I didn't know why exactly I was there. Maybe it was the promise of alcohol and the memory of Emerson lingering in my mind but honestly, I just wanted it all to stop.

I wanted to stop feeling for a little while, wanted to stop having to look at Elliot and only see the hurt in his eyes. I wanted to stop hating myself for a bit and I knew I wouldn't remember it in the morning.

So I showed up at Logan's little house-party after Emerson hasn't answered my third call. I was getting too dependent on her these days and without her, I found myself lost.

I never really like parties. Maybe it was all the people intoxicated and passed out on the lawn or maybe it was the way I was naturally introverted. Either way, I wanted to drink until I didn't remember her smile or have the picture of her in my clothing etched into my brain.

God, kill me.

"Oliver, cuz, where you been?" A hyped slogan had appeared at my shoulder, throwing his tatted arm around me and pushing a plastic cup into my hand. The cup was filled with ice and a liquid almost as brown as Emerson's skin.

And I squeezed my eyes shut, downing it to try and forget the way her hand felt in mine or the way her body felt pressed against me. I had it bad.

"Hey, hey, chill," Logan had laughed out as he grabbed the cup from me. I still didn't even look at him as he pushed my shoulder as if trying to coax a response out of me. My eyes were still shut as that moment replayed over and over in my head, the same way it had since it happened.

"You need help."

Grabbing the cup back from my cousin, I drank the rest, the Solo crushing in my grip and I threw it on the floor, knowing if have to help him clean up later. I wasn't even buzzed yet.

"What's up with you today, man?" Logan had asked, eyes wide as he followed me on my trail to the kitchen. I hadn't even realized I'd gotten there until I ripped open a bottle of Tequila and poured it into another cup. Beside me, a college girl was taking body shots. Logan hadn't really caught on to the fact that I was planning to drink my pain away until I'd dumped that down my throat, the sting only slightly bearable. That was when Logan had jumped into action, "Are you fucking insane?" He'd asked as my shaking hand went to pour another cup, my head clouding up but not nearly enough for me to be drunk.

"Is this about that girl?" He'd asked as he ripped the bottle out of my hand, the liquid sloshing up over the cup and trailing down both our hands.

Emerson.

"Don't fucking bring her up," I warned, my voice gravely as I tried to intimidate him, I should've known it wouldn't work.

Logan rolled his eyes, "I've known you basically my whole life, Oliver, you don't scare me... So what happened?" He'd asked as he closed the bottle and took a tamer bottle of Jack, pouring that into my cup and into a most-likely clean one for him.

"I don't wanna talk about it."

He must've seen the harshness of my face or the even colder tone to my words because he winced, "that bad?"

"I..." I'd gasped out, my throat suddenly closing up at the revelation. Emerson was everything to me, to the point that without her, I couldn't function properly, "I think I love her, man."

Love.

I only loved two people in this world: my mom and Elliot. But maybe just maybe, I could love her too.

Logan sighed, pushing away from the counter and going in the fridge to grab a beer. Popping the top, he poured half in my cup and placed it on the table, spinning it around. He waited around with me for a few minutes before realizing how much I just wanted to be alone. I didn't want to talk because talking about her would get me thinking and thinking about her caused this fire to dance up my spine and ache to start pounding through my chest.

"Don't drink too much," Logan had said before taking a sip of the half-gone beer and placing it down next to me.

Then he was gone in a throng of college students and tattoo artists.

And I was alone.