So over my ex. If he’s here, I’m not going to even care.
I probably won’t even look at him.
Wait, it’s Thursday, and he works Thursdays. Thank God.
Crisis adverted.
Shit. It’s Wednesday.
He probably won’t even come. I mean, he’s a sixth year senior–he’s too busy to weekday drink.
Never mind. He’s here.
I’m drunk AF.
It’s barely 10 p.m.–I need to get my life together.
HA. He looks fat.
And by fat, I mean fit. Ugh.
Who is he getting in shape for?
He literally only ate Taco Bell and drank shitty beer when he was with me.
Is it weird I’m here?
I was invited, right?
Can he kick me out?
Oh my God, he’s coming over here.
He just offered my sister a beer. What?
Yeah, let’s act like we don’t know each other. Cool.
Oh, so you’re just going to offer my entire sorority drinks?
Why are you shotgunning beers with my sorority sisters?
I’ll just drink a weird mixed drink a pledge gave me and forget you’re here.
How many shots are in this?
Damn pledge.
LOL. Don’t even care he’s here anymore.
Thank God I have friends in this fraternity who will talk to me.
“Does he miss me?”
“Is he dating anyone?!”
Whatever, this is my song.
“AND THE PLAYERS GONNA PLAY PLAY PLAY PLAY PLAY.”
Taylor gets me.
Wait, who’s that blonde he’s talking to?
Where are they going?
OH. MY. GOD.
They’re literally dancing on a table.
YOU’RE AN ADULT. STOP.
At least this nice pledge keeps giving me drinks.
I’ll just dance on the table, too. And I’ll invite my new pledge friend, too.
This T. Swift mix has me feeling some type of way.
“WE ARE NEVER, EVER, EVER GETTING BACK TOGETHER.”
Yes, this is about you.
Okay, someone on my sorority’s exec is at this party. Getting off the table now. The last thing I need after a night “spent with my ex” is a standards meeting.
Why is he still dancing with her?
Did they just kiss?
No way. He’s not that trashy.
Bathroom break stat.
Why am I crying?
Maybe I had one too many drinks from the punch bowl, but I swear I’m not drunk.
I could be 100 percent sober and still be sitting on a dirty bathroom floor crying about my ex.
Probably.
I LOVE him.
Maybe we’ll meet up at a cafe in 10 years and pick up where we left off?
My heart is seriously so broken.
I need a beer.
Actually, I need four beers. I’m not feeling any of this mixed drink.
My little always has my back.
How long have I been crying in the bathroom? This is embarrassing.
I’m so over him that it isn’t even funny.
I’m just going to go back out there, dance with my friends, and then leave.
Wait. Where did he go?
Maybe I’ll just do a quick sweep of the house before I leave.
I mean, we ARE adults. I should be nice and say goodbye.
Not upstairs.
Not in the TV room.
Maybe he was in the bathroom when I was leaving the bathroom and I missed him.
Let me check the basement before I leave.
Not down here. Everyone’s gone.
The fratio maybe?
Nope.
Whatever, I’ll just leave and–
Oh my God, he just texted me: “Where did you go? I’m sorry I was mean to you all night. I love you.”
This is in no way a booty call.
He’s going to ask me to formal and we’re going to get back together. We’re going to live happily ever after.
SO happy I came tonight!
Good thing I didn’t leave yet.
No, no, NO. Why are his brothers making up a bed for him on the couch? He’s not that drunk!
Let me take care of him.
I’ll take him back to my place and give him water.