2 years later
Jackson holds my hand, pulling me through the crush of bodies throughout the house. We finally make our way to the drinks and he tries handing me a beer. I glare at him, still not over our earlier argument about his drinking. He shakes his head and reaches back into the chest, pulling out a cherry coke. This time I happily nod my head, suddenly content to be at a party full of our drunk graduating class. He's still holding onto the beer and I know in my head that he'll drink it and probably more and we'll be back to where we started.
He's too damn stubborn, convinced his drinking isn't a problem and he has it under control, but I've seen him. I've seen him when one more becomes one too many and I've seen him driving drunk and recklessly across town to my house where we'll stop, have sex and then he'll make his way stumbling across our driveways to his front door. I've seen him change from the love of my life, into someone I don't even want to know. The saddest thing is he doesn't even see it himself.
Shaking the thoughts from my head, I pull us to the make shift dance floor, ready to get a natural high. For a few hours I let go and dance with my girlfriends and a steadily declining boyfriend. Eventually we go and sit, just laughing and talking over the loud bass line. Jackson leaves to go find another beer and some of the guys from the football team. Apparently this means it's time to start the inquisition.
"So," Bonnie says leaning closer, "have you guys actually had sex yet?" Marceline and I share a look, both of us knowing that we have and its been a few years since we started. "Yes... But I've only been with Jackson." Marceline scoffs. "Of course, you've only been with Jackson. You guys are practically married. And not only that, you're perfect for each other." I'm ready to spill the fact that recently we haven't been so perfect, but instead decide that I'm done talking about my life. "Pssh, and how many people have you been with, Marcy? Ten?" I poke her side gently to let her know I'm joking and just want to stop talking about me. A benefit of her being my best friend is that she gets exactly what I'm trying to convey. "More like eight," she grumbles. We all laugh and move onto to talking about graduation which happened earlier that day.
After a while, I get tired and decide to find Jackson. Making my way across the house, I finally find him in the dining room playing beer pong. I snuggle into his side and whisper into his ear, "I'm ready to go home. Do you want to leave now or should I get a ride with Marcy and Bonnie?" He kisses my forehead and lays an arm across my shoulders. "You can leave with them, as long as you aren't mad at me." He has a bit of a twinkle in his eyes and I know that we're going to be okay. I kiss his shoulder, "I'll see you later then."
For awhile after Bonnie drops me off, I meander around my house, a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. After checking that the doors are locked, and everything is put away correctly, I go upstairs, convinced that what I'm feeling is just a side effect of my coke. I don't have it very often and sometimes it upsets my stomach... Whatever. I change into my pajamas and mess around on my laptop. Facebook has pictures from tonight's party, twitter shows whatever my favorite celebs are talking about, and instagram just shows more pictures and selfies from tonight's party. I shake my head, too tired to stay up any longer and fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.
It's one a.m. and all I hear is my phone vibrating against my mattress. I groggily lift it up just as it stops ringing. The call history shows call after call from Marshall. The bad feeling I had in my stomach earlier is suddenly back and intensified. Just then my phone starts vibrating again. I hit the answer button and pull it up to my ear. "Hello?"