The nurse walks back in to grab the form, clearly irritated that there are three drunk men giggling like little girls in the room, trying on hospital masks that they drew smiley faces on the front of.

“There’s no drinking of alcohol allowed on hospital premises,” she tells them haughtily.

“Pudding shots do not equal drinking alcohol,” Drew informs her, his voice muffled through the hospital mask that has a porn stache drawn on the front of it. “Pudding shots equal awesome. Can I call you ‘Puddin’?”

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” she tells him.

He throws his arm around her shoulders. “Awwww, don’t be like that, Puddin. We’ll share some with you.”

As I wrangle the guys and get them out of the room to give Claire some peace and quiet and get Nurse Ratched off our backs, I suddenly wish I could turn back time. I’d go back to something better than this. A time when my best friend wasn’t getting ready to go into surgery so they could try and cut out the part of her body that’s killing her. A time when I was young and dumb. Those were the good old days…

HERE’S A LITTLE secret that not too many people know: Claire wasn’t the only one who had a one-night stand that one time at a frat party. Unlike my dumbass friend, at least I remembered the birth control and didn’t get knocked up. Well, birth control that works. I guess it isn’t her fault condoms break every once in a while.

That one time, at a frat party…

CLAIRE HAD DISAPPEARED with some really cute guy about twenty minutes ago and honestly, I was glad she walked out of the room. The two of them were trading lines from Heathers while they played a thousand games of beer pong and it had started making me feel stabby. Heathers was our thing. OURS. Now that whore decided to finally listen to me about losing her virginity with a dude who was going to steal her away from me. Some pretty boy with a sweet smile who was going to pop her cherry, ask her to marry him and then they would move away and I’d never see her again. Okay, I know I’m being dramatic, fuck your face. I’m a good friend, though. I stood watch over the guy all night long and made sure he wasn’t some pompous frat boy who would slip a roofie in her drink and take advantage of her. The fact that he was actually nice made it harder to hate him for stealing my best friend. Thank God Claire strapped on a set of balls and took the lead, otherwise that guy would have just stared at her with those stupid googly eyes all night long and never manned up. That guy was two seconds away from kissing the ground she walked on. Really, I’m happy for her. If she’s going to lose her virginity, at least it’s with someone like that and not some douche who will hit it and quit it and she’ll never see him again. I hope she at least remembers to get his damn name.

“You look bored. How can you possibly be bored at a frat party?”

I turned around so fast when I heard a voice close to my ear that my full cup of beer sloshed all down the front of the guy’s clothes.

He let out a yell when the cold liquid hit his junk and I growled when I realized I’d just wasted a full cup of perfectly good beer. As he attempted to pull his wet shirt away from his body, I looked over at the keg that now had a red Solo cup covering the tap indicating it was empty.

Super. Just perfect. I have to stand here and wait for my best friend to finish doing the deed sober.

I started to move towards the kitchen in the hopes of finding something, anything to drink when a hand grabbed onto my arm. I had really good intentions, I swear. My mouth opened and I prepared to let a string of curse words fly, telling this asshole to get his hands off me before I kicked him in the balls, but my eyes met his and I forgot how to swear. I don’t forget how to swear. I NEVER forget how to swear. Swearing is my favorite thing in the world and I always have some good ones on the tip of my tongue ready to fly just in case. Hazel eyes with a ring of green around them stared down at me and I swear to fuck they sparkled as he looked at me. Gorgeous eyes aside, the guy had the nerve to smile at me. Not smirk like a douche, but a full, showing all his teeth and the dimples in his cheeks smile.

“I promise I won’t say something stupid like ‘How about you help me get out of these wet clothes,’ but… I really need to get out of these wet clothes,” he told me.

I just stood there staring at his lips as he spoke.

“I have an extra t-shirt and jeans out in my car, but I’m afraid if I go out and get them, you won’t be here when I get back.”

Finally, I tore my eyes away from his mouth and shook the cobwebs from my brain. I took a step back from him, putting some distance between us before I did something stupid like kiss the guy.

“What do you care if I’m not here when you get back? There are a hundred girls at this party,” I replied lamely.

He shrugged. “You’re the only one who looks like she doesn’t want to be here and that intrigues me. It also doesn’t hurt that you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

My mouth dropped open unattractively and I’m pretty sure he wanted to take that statement back immediately. I’ve been called hot, sexy, gorgeous and a bunch of other adjectives that I couldn’t have cared less about, but no one had ever told me I was pretty. That word indicates sweet and nice and innocent—something I had never been. It also made my heart melt, which pissed me off. My heart never melts.

“My name is Jim,” he told me with that fucking smile again.

He held his hand out in front of him and there was nothing I could do but take it. I mean, I didn’t want the poor guy looking like a schmuck with his hand hanging there while I stared him down.