• • •

It feels like an hour goes by before Gray loosens his grip on the toilet seat and slithers to the side, his back against the cold tile wall. I mop him up and push his hair off his damp forehead, and I curse his mother for doing this to him.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs.

"It's fine, Gray."

"What time is it?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe one?" I remember thrusting my phone at Liam a while ago to look something up, when his had died and I couldn't type properly. I guess he still has it. Squeezing his shoulder, I clumsily clean up around him, my legs a little shaky. "We should find you somewhere to sleep."

He shakes his lolling head, his eyes closing. "This is good."

It's not. It's disgusting. He's on the floor of a stall in a communal bathroom, but at least he's not crying or barfing. I'm tempted to let him stay there, and I sit with him for a minute until it sinks in how gross this is.

"Come on," I mutter, hauling him to his feet. He lets out a groan and sinks against me. He's a total dead weight; there's no way I can drag him all the way back to Liam's room. One of the cold-airs is right next to the bathroom, and I doubt every bed will be full tonight. Half the guys are probably too drunk to care if Gray's in their bed.

I help him onto the bottom bunk of a bed that looks the least used and grab a waste paper basket when he has to hurl again, and when he's done, he starts to quietly cry. So I just hold him. I don't know what more I can say, especially when he's drunk so much. I kind of hope he won't remember this in the morning.

Eventually, when he falls asleep on his side with a clean basket on the floor, I deem it safe enough to leave him. The party's in full swing downstairs but I don't want to just go and drink more and end up on my own. I want Liam.

He's not hard to find. As I head downstairs, he's heading up. We bump into each other when we both go in for a tipsy, grinning hug.

"I've been looking for you," he says, kissing my cheek. His hand roves from my waist to my hips, slipping to my butt. He leans close, slightly unsteady on his feet, and kisses me, pushing against me. "Where'd you go?"

"Gray didn't feel good," I say. "He's sleeping now."

"That sucks," he says with a sigh. "In my room?"

"One of the dorms." I lean into Liam and just rest my cheek against his chest for a moment. He fumbles in his pocket for a moment and passes me my dead phone, and he kisses my forehead.

"Are you sleepy?" he asks.

"No." I'm actually not. I'm exhausted in a different way – just with how things are going with Gray, mostly. But I'm not tired. Certainly not when Liam holds me so close and I can feel just how not tired he is. I slip my hand into his. "But that doesn't mean we can't go to bed."

Liam lets out a surprised laugh and follows when I lead him to his bedroom and pause outside.

"Davis isn't here, is he?" I ask. I realize it's easily been an hour since I found Gray. "I know he and Annika were fighting earlier."

"God knows." Liam rakes a hand through his hair and carefully pushes the door open with his elbow. It's empty. Davis's bed is messy but it's free from a body tangled in the crumpled covers.

"All to ourselves," I say, nudging closer to Liam. Maybe it's the alcohol talking, maybe it's that I've been wanting this for a while now, maybe I need a distraction. Maybe it helps that I can feel he wants it too. I think tonight is the night. I want to sleep with him.

"Hey," he murmurs. I kiss him. Hard. He lets out a low, dirty laugh. It's painfully arousing. God, I want every part of him and I let him know when I start to unbutton his shirt, pushing him towards his bed. The shirt falls off his shoulders. I hook my fingers in the waistband of his jeans to pull him to me, my lips mashed against his.

He's into it. He kisses me deeper, his tongue exploring mine as his hands fumble with the zip of my dress, and my breath hitches but he can't figure it out. He gives up trying to undress me and settles for pushing his hand into the deep v-neck to touch me.

Liam traces his thumb over the silk of my bra and groans against my lips and God I know I want this. I really do. I almost can't bear it, how aroused I am when he grinds against me as I undo his belt and he unclasps my bra without undoing my dress.

As soon as it's off, I lose my cleavage but he doesn't lose interest. He knows the deal. One hand is at the small of my back, another groping my breast in the darkness, only moving when he drops onto the bed and pulls me next to him. The dress pools around us. I shimmy out of my bra straps, the deep plunge of my neckline hardly containing my breasts when I lie beside him.

"I love you," I say between kisses, my hands messing up his hair. He pushes me onto my back and looms over me, and when he leans down to kiss me, he's rock hard, pressing against my stomach. His kisses are clumsy but so are mine, my hands a little drunk as they fumble with his fly.

"I love you too," he mutters.

"I want this," I say, and it becomes even more true when I say it out loud, but my voice gets quieter. "I want to do it."

"Storie..."

"I'm ready."

"You're drunk," he says. "We're not having sex." He drops onto his side, lying next to me. A bubble of irritation comes to the surface and I know it's irrational because he's right, I'm drunk, but I want this.

"I know you want to too," I say, frowning at him. He smiles back a tipsy smile.

"I do. So much. But you're drunk. Shit, so am I. This isn't gonna be our first time." He nestles closer and I can't be annoyed at him. I hate that I was. "It doesn't have to be special, but it does have to be sober."

I know he's right. But I also just want to free myself of this burden on my shoulders and I wish he wasn't being so sensible. I just want to get it over and done with, to get that awkwardness out of the way for once and for all. I know I shouldn't care about the whole virginity thing, but I do. I can't help that. It's always made out to be such a big deal and I don't want it to be, but I know that whenever we do do it, I'm going to be overthinking it so much it hurts.

"Do you want to sleep with me? Ever?"

The words just fall out. I blame alcohol for stripping me of my filter, for letting out the question that's been on my mind.

"Of course I do." His hand is on my thigh, creeping higher under my dress, "but not like this. Not yet."

"Ok. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Let's just not rush it," he says, and I think he must be more sober than I am. I hope I'm not a sloppy drunk and I'll end up embarrassed in the morning. He smiles and kisses me, and I feel better.

"Can we still fool around?" I ask, because there's only one way to get rid of how turned on I still am, and Liam laughs, looking down at himself.

"I think we might have to."

He kneels between my thighs, my knees propped up either side of me, and plants his hands by my shoulders to kiss me, driving me crazy with anticipation. I drape my arms around his neck to hold him down and I can't help but moan when one of his hands moves between us.

Of course that's when the door flies open. It just had to be.

"She's in here," says a voice I don't recognize, and Liam and I are quite quick enough to untangle ourselves before Tad steps in.

"Tad! What're you doing here?" I cry out, my voice high and humiliated, but he doesn't seem to care. He looks like a total wreck, his face pale and his eyes underlined with dark bags. I sit up, my head spinning a bit, and double check that I'm not spilling out of my dress.

"Where's Graham?" He sounds out of breath, his chest heaving. "Storie? Where is he?"

"Um, he's down the hall," I say, a wavering finger pointing in the general direction. I stumble to my feet and he catches my arm when I nearly lose my balance. "Why're you here?"

"What happened?" he asks, ignoring my question.

"We were just kissing," I say, suddenly ashamed. "Liam and me. We were only kissing. Nothing else."

"I don't care about that," Tad says, but not meanly. "What happened with Graham? What did he do?" he asks, and he stops short when I lead him to the cold-air dorm and he sees Gray passed out on the bed, his eyes puffy and a vomit-filled waste paper basket at his side. "Jesus Christ."

He races to Gray's side and sits at the edge of the bed, shaking his shoulder. I feel shaken too. I don't understand what's going on, why he's here.

"He just drank too much but he's ok," I say, hugging myself. I guess Liam was right: if I've drunk too much to comprehend what's going on now, then maybe sex wasn't the best idea. "What happened? Did something happen? Why're you here?"

"I've been calling and calling. Both of you. Neither of you answered." He sounds mad. Crap. He sounds mad. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know!" I cry out at last, flinging my arms out, almost hitting Liam. I didn't realize he'd followed me. "My phone died and Gray's died and I'm sorry but I didn't know you were trying to call and I don't know why you're here. Nothing happened. Gray's drunk but he's fine." My body starts shaking when fear sets in and my voice wobbles, my eyes welling up. Tad looks awful. His shoulders sink.

"Gray's mom called me," he says at last, still sitting next to Gray's unconscious body. "She was beside herself. She said that she thought he was going to do something stupid and she played me the message he sent and then I couldn't get hold of either of you and ... God, I thought..." He puts a shaking hand to his forehead, the other clutching Gray's shoulder, and he can't finish his sentence.

So that's what happened. I replay Gray's words in his head, and they chill me. "His mom called," I say at last, realizing how he must've sounded to her. "They fought. Badly. Then he left her a message. He drank too much so I stayed with him and I put him to bed."

"I heard the message," Tad says. "I came straight here." He looks down at Gray, who blearily opens his eyes and squints up at us. "You scared the crap out of me. I thought the worst had happened," Tad says. His eyes fill up and the worst feeling consumes me.

"I'm so sorry," I manage to stutter. "Gray was just really upset with his mom and we drank too much. He didn't want to scare you. I'm sorry. You didn't have to come out here."

"I did, Storie." His voice is grave. "Lauren played me the message. I heard what Graham said. I had to come over."

"I'm so sorry." My voice is hardly a whimper. Liam puts his arm around me and I tuck myself against him, trying not to cry in front of everyone.

"It's not your fault." Tad looks absolutely exhausted. He stands and helps Gray to his feet, and he doesn't even seem mad that he's drunk, just distraught that he sounded like he was going to hurt himself.

"Look," he says, hoisting Gray's arm around his shoulders, "I'm going to take Graham home." He looks from me to Liam and back again. "Maybe you should come home? You don't have to. I just..."

He doesn't sound sure. I guess he's in a weird position, not really my parent. I don't want to make him feel awkward though, so I nod. I'd only end up going to bed anyway, and probably wake up wishing I was home.

• • •

I can hardly keep my eyes open on the drive home. It's weird being on the road with Tad driving at nearly three o'clock in the morning, almost halfway back to Five Oaks. I hug myself, tugged against the window with my head bumping against the glass, and Gray is knocked out in the back seat.

"Are you mad?" I ask, my voice small after thirty minutes of silence. Tad looks surprised to hear my voice. He meets my eye for a second before his gaze returns to the road.

"With you? No. I'm not mad at you, Storie," he says. "Sorry if I made you feel that way. I'm not." He pats my hand.

"Are you mad at Gray?"

He takes a deep breath and lets out a heavy sigh, and he shakes his head. "No. If I was him, I'd probably be the same. I made my fair share of mistakes at college parties. I'm furious with his mom, though."

"You are?"

He nods, hands tight on the steering wheel. "She keeps pushing," he says. "She pushed away from us for years and now she seems to be pushing Graham to come back, and instead she has pushed him to this." He shakes his head to himself. "I don't understand ... I don't really get anything that's happened this week. It was all news to me too."

"You really didn't know?" I take the chance to quiz him, when I'm looking out of the window and I'm still tipsy enough not to hold back on the questions, and it's just the two of us.

"I really didn't know, I promise," he says. "After Lauren left, I tried to get her back. I tried to get her to stay, for Gray if nothing else, but she cut all ties. I couldn't argue, so I didn't. After she walked out, I didn't see her again for nearly a year. I never understood how she could just leave like that, but I guess it makes more sense now."

"She seems like a terrible person," I murmur. "I hate her." I shouldn't say that. Tad was married to her for a decade. But he doesn't look mad. Just sad. He slowly nods.

When we get back, Tad forces Gray to drink a full pint of water and he helps him to bed, and I don't argue when he drunkenly asks me to lie down because I don't want to be alone either. Mom's fast asleep and I hear Tad creep in as quietly as possible, hardly making a sound as he slips in next to her. I wonder if she even knew he left. He wouldn't go without telling her, but she wouldn't fall asleep if she knew something was wrong.

As soon as my phone charges enough to come to life, a message from Liam pops up amidst an endless stream of missed calls, texts and voicemails from Tad. Liam's is the only one I click on right now, my eyes so tired it's hard to read.

I hope you got home ok. I'm sorry you had to leave :( I miss you. sleep well. I love you x

The message I type back is a lot less coherent, punctuated with a few too many kisses, but tipsiness turns to tiredness and as soon as my phone leaves my hand, I'm asleep.

• • •

It's too early. I know that as soon as I wake up and see how dreary it is outside, the sun barely awake and the sky a disgusting shade of gray. I don't know what woke me, but I stumble to the bathroom and I hear voices downstairs, followed by steps coming up.

When I leave the bathroom, Mom's in the hallway. She looks strange, something of a grimace painted on her face.

"Hi, honey," she says, her words softer than I expected.

"Hey, Mom. What's going on?" I ask when I realize I can still hear voices. Obviously not Mom and Tad.

Mom winces. "Gray's mother is here," she says.

"What the hell? Why?! She's the last person he wants to see!" I cry, the volume of my voice seeming to activate the pounding in my head. So I guess this is what a hangover feels like.

"I know. She was worried, after last night," she says. "I slept through everything, but Tad told me what happened. Is Gray ok?"

"He's alive," I say. I did check that when I woke up. "He won't want to talk to her, Mom. She needs to go before he's up."

Mom holds up her hands. "I don't want to get involved," she says. "This is between her and Gray, and Tad. I just wanted to come and check on you two." She glances over my shoulder and I follow her line of vision to see a very bedheaded Gray come out of his room, squinting at us.

"Hey." His voice is scratchy and dry. He coughs.

"Morning, honey," Mom says, and he smiles when she calls him that. I bet his mom never even called him anything but his name. "Are you ok?"

"I need water," he says, heading for the stairs. Before either of us can say anything, he latches onto the voices and looks up at us in slow motion. "Is that...?"

"Your mom's here," Mom says, her voice as gentle as possible. It doesn't stop a raincloud from coming over Gray's face, preceding a thunderstorm. He seems to sober up in an instant, rushing down the stairs, and we follow, skidding into the kitchen behind him.

Lauren's standing in the kitchen, gripping her elbows. She looks rough. Maybe just because I feel rough. Her expression changes when she sees Gray and she goes in for a hug, but he ducks away from her.

"No. You don't get to do that," he says, clearing his throat when it threatens to crack. "Why the hell are you here?"

"You worried me last night," she says. It sounds like she's been crying too. "I can't stand how things have turned out. I wanted to check on you."

Gray checks his watch. "Eight hours later?"

"I couldn't just leave."

"Dad did," he spits. Tad puts his hand on Gray's arm and murmurs his name, but I can see the fury in Gray's eyes. I've seen it all week.

"Graham, please," Lauren says. "I just want to clear the air. I can't bear things being like this between us. I'm your mom."

"No you're not." He shakes his head and ducks past her to fill a glass of water. "You want to be a mom? Take tips from Jen."

Lauren glances at Mom, who doesn't know what to do with herself. I feel so awful for her, forced into this position.

"Graham..." Lauren's voice is pathetic. "Let's just move past this. We can go back to normal."

He laughs and almost drops his water. He plants himself between his mom and mine, diffusing some of the awkwardness. "You know it was never normal, right? It's not normal to pay more attention to my grades than to me. It's messed up. I don't care that your new husband's a millionaire. I don't want your money. I wanted you, but now I realize how crazy I was."

Tad doesn't seem to know what to do. I can't believe the three of them were a family once upon a time. It's too weird to try to imagine.

"You should go, Lauren," he says at last. "This isn't helping."

"I'm not going until we get somewhere," she says. Gray laughs.

"You want to get somewhere? Get going," he says. "I don't want anything to do with you anymore. I don't want your money. I don't want to know you. I don't want to meet your kids."

"I want you to," she says. "They're your brothers."

He shakes his head. "They're not. They're your kids. Clearly, I'm not. Sorry, but I don't want to know them. I'm done, with all of this." He waves his arms around and downs his water, refilling it immediately. "I'm sorry you had to actually pay attention to me for once but I meant everything I said last night. We. Are. Done."

It's hard to watch. My eyes fill with tears and I know Mom's upset behind me. She takes on everyone's emotions as though they're her own. It's an exhausting way to live, but it makes her the most incredible person to know.

"Lauren," Tad says, a warning tone in his voice.

"We can't end things like this," she says, still talking to Gray, but he's not having it. I've seen that fire in his eyes.

"Ok. I just have one question," he says. She nods. He holds her gaze. "Do your other kids know about me?"

She pauses. It kills me. It's too long a pause. It's so painfully clear in her silence that her new family has no idea Gray exists. I see the agony in his eyes. He shakes his head at her. All his power melts away. Tad looks broken too.

"Go, Lauren," he says, stepping over to Gray, who tries to hold himself together.

"Don't talk to me again," Gray says, his voice weak. "Please. I can't. Just go."

She hovers.