Karma Ashcroft. Her name was all I needed to get my heart pumping wildly.

I slammed my empty shot glass down on the bed side table, making my cat stare with attentive eyes.

"Sorry Mr. Catcake,"

That was my fifth shot of tequila and I'm not planning on stopping any time soon. As the alcohol goes down my throat, it burns at first but as it makes it's way down further, it began warming my throat along with my entire body.

Karma was right, drinking alone isn't fun. But I'm not drinking to have fun, I'm drinking to forget. To forget that the woman I'm in love with had just lost her virginity to some fucking man whore who's only interest in her was "to turn a lesbian".

Trying to drown out the pain she had caused by getting drunk was a good plan. Wasn't it? It always helps the heartbroken people in all of my Netflix queues. It helps that my mom has the entire kitchen filled with celebratory alcohol for her wedding shower tomorrow.

It saddened me deeply to know that she would never feel the same. I loved her so much, it hurt. Whenever she would kiss him, I would die inside. Oh, but when she told me about how she willingly gave him the most important thing to her, at school, in a fucking box. That's when the real anger began.

My hand closed around the now full tequila shot glass, as I raised it up to my mouth. When the tequila bottle neared half empty I drew my attention to the clock.

12:38

Given I knew the only reason she started this entire facade was for Liam, it was for popularity, it was for her. I knew she was doing it for a boy, I knew she was straight, but fuck if I care about it anymore. I've fallen in love with Karma. My very straight best friend.

Refiling the glass I bring it to my lips and let the alcohol fill my mouth. I felt the burn of the alcohol as it flowed down my already blazing esophagus, but it just felt so good. It made me forget the pain. I knew inside what I was doing was wrong, I shouldn't be drinking because I lost myself when I got drunk, plus I'm only fifteen, but right now it was the only time I actually felt happy in weeks.

It's been 7 hours and 23 minutes since I've last spoken to Karma.

"Ugh, I miss you," I slurred my words to no one in particular spilling out as a murmur.

I heard a faint meow as my cat got up off the end of the bed and walked to the other side of the room.

My cat is an asshole.

Now it's been 7 hours and 24 minutes since I've last talked to her.

I groggily reach for my phone hitting the home button twice to music start playing. After skipping a few tracks I landed on on that I've been obsessed with lately.

I'm that flight that you get on, international

First class seat on my lap girl, riding comfortable.

Going back to the home screen, I see a picture of me and the girl. She was perfect in every aspect. Her hair was a beautiful, fiery auburn that flowed down her shoulders in a blazing cascade; it fit her personality perfectly. Her skin glowed and her eyes were a beautiful mixture that sparkled in the sun. She was crazy and fun, and I loved her more than anyone ever could.

Sighing, "Oh fuck it."

I pull up my messages, going past Shane's worrisome words and down to Karma's name.

"Hey baby, you up?"