Hence, why we were both desperately trying to get drunk and stay drunk as quickly as possible.

Calum and Tristan had left a couple hours before, and I thought we were both feeling it in our own ways, but I could only begin to imagine how Nikki must have been feeling. She was marrying someone who was going off to "bone bitches," as she'd eloquently put it earlier. She gave him her blessing because she understood that he kind of had to go since he'd already made his commitments. She was not one to break her promises but by the glazed over look in her eye, that knowledge and acceptance was eating away at her.

My friendship was eating away at me.

I cried last night for at least half an hour after Tristan dropped me off. It wasn't pretty at all. I was a sloppy mess when I cried. Big gasps, snot everywhere, body heaving: the works. Matlock freaked out and hid under my bed until I got myself under control. Almost as if she knew what I was doing, Nikki sent me a text message a little while afterward demanding that I spend the weekend with her.

"Let's go get haircuts and blow some money on cupcakes tomorrow. What do you say?" she suggested with a slow waggle of her eyebrows.

"Deal," I accepted without a second thought. The key to our hearts was through cupcakes. Stuffing our faces was a tried and true method in healing our souls. There was also something about getting a haircut, regardless of whether you cut off an inch or six that just made you feel better about yourself.

Nikki smiled at me sadly, before plopping her foot way too close to my face. "I hate feeling like this," she moaned in misery.

"I know, Nik. I can't even imagine—," I told her simply, knowing she'd understand what I was trying to express. I couldn't imagine how she felt. I could barely contain my own emotions, but somehow voicing them made them seem so much more painful and harsh.

"And you, you asshole. What's going on with Tristan? I saw you all snuggled up at the bar."

I snorted because I figured it was the only reasonable noise to express. "There is nothing going on, trust me. He just wants to be friends, and I'm not going to try to force anyone to be with me, you know?"

"Of course I do," she rolled her clear, blue eyes. "You're better than that. I better not ever hear you trying to make anyone be with you, K. Any guy would be lucky to have you. It kills me enough to know that you're pining away for Robby, I mean Tristan—"

"I'm not pining away for him!" I said a little too loudly and indignantly.

"Is that why you're always hanging out with him?" she asked, smiling smugly when I didn't bother responding. "K, don't you waste your time on him when he doesn't want the same thing you do. At least, don't waste all of your time on him hoping that something will come out of it. You need to live your life, too. Okay?"

I saw the reasoning in her words because they made a lot of sense. What was I going to do? Waste away years of my life on a guy I liked hoping that he'd see me as more than a friend at some point? Is that the life I wanted to live? A part of me screamed, yes! Tristan was worth it. The other half yelled back, no! Life was too short to wait around.

"Okay," I agreed with her. There wasn't a point in disagreeing, she was completely right.

She gulped down the last bit of her martini in a way that was anything but feminine. "I love you, and I want you to be happy, Kat. I know he makes you happy, but I just don't want you to get your heart broken. It isn't fair he gets to go off and bang other girls while you sit around and wait for him to pull his head out of his ass. You need to get laid," she enunciated in a sing-song voice. I knew she was well on her way to being drunk. She didn't sing-song. Ever.