What the hell happened last night? I remember I was meeting a guy I met at a bar for an official date. What was his name? Joey. Joey from Southie. He wouldn’t let me forget it. Was he one of these guys in the bed? I examined each face closely. Nope. No Joey. I had been using my shoes a lot more lately since my new time passer was clubbing, partying and sex. I don’t know how many guys I had slept with in the past few weeks but every day, whether I got home in the early morning or I kicked guys like these out, I opened my medicine cabinet and pulled out the picture of Conner and me. I almost hated Lizzie for giving it to me. It was a constant reminder that I would never be fully happy again. Now I knew exactly what Nick was going through the day he kissed me and called me Lizzie. I swear I purposely called out Conner’s name whenever I had sex. Back in the day, partying with friends in Austin, I always felt like I did something wrong the night before and the whole day is spent putting myself down, telling myself I would never drink again.
