And I wouldn’t say I’m okay. But I’m here with a fake-as-fuck smile on my face, so I suppose it’s a step in the right direction.

As familiar faces and curious strangers crowd me with questions and compliments, I clench the spout of the beer in my hand, wondering if I could crack the glass with just my fist.

After all, my hands have broken far worse.

Mandy slides up behind me, snaking her arms around my midsection and holding tight. I feel her press kisses into the middle of my back, and I raise my unoccupied hand to pat her clasped palms. “Good party,” I mutter.

I’m lying. The party is awful and my head is pounding, and I feel like everything is spinning. There are people here I used to consider good friends that I haven’t given a single thought to over the course of the last seven weeks. Are they even my friends? Am I completely desensitized to human connection?

I turn to see Cora walk through the door with her friend, Lily, bathed in sparkly silver and skinny jeans, her hair glowing with fresh highlights and a look in her eyes that resembles a cornered animal. My heart does a funny flip inside my chest, and I know that I’m not completely desensitized.

Cora puts the brakes on after stepping through the threshold, grasping Lily’s hand and tugging the brunette backwards. The music is too loud to hear what they’re saying, but Lily scrubs her hand up and down over Cora’s arm, comforting her in some way. Likely telling her that it’s not so bad. It will be just fine.

She’s a liar, Cora. It’s a trap.

Mandy notices her sister’s arrival and unlinks her arms from my waist, making a tipsy, enthusiastic jog over to Cora, who still appears frozen and ashen in the entryway. I sip my beer, watching the scene from afar, taking in the way Mandy pulls Cora in for a hug like life is raining down with sunshine and puppy dogs.

Cora’s eyes meet mine over Mandy’s shoulder and I lower my beer, offering her a small, understanding smile. She sends the same one back to me. But before I’m able to approach her to say hello, I’m sucked into a conversation with one of my good friends, Reid. He slaps my shoulder, looking genuinely happy to see me, and we spend about fifteen minutes catching up—well, he catches me up. I’m certain Reid has no desire to hear what I’ve been up to since we last saw each other in October.

When I break away to grab another beer, I find Cora in the kitchen clinging to her red plastic cup, engaging in conversation with Lily and a familiar looking guy I presume to be Jason. I pull a fresh beer out of the cooler and glance in their direction, deciding that I was absolutely correct: I don’t like Jason.

He’s wearing a turtleneck for fuck’s sake.

And he keeps reaching out to touch her—her arm, her hand, her hip. He even pulled a piece of invisible lint out of her hair. Cora is all smiles and niceties as she nods at him, but I can see her grip on the cup is tightening and her knee keeps bobbing up and down. Lily is laughing at whatever bullshit he’s spouting off, and hey, I think Lily and Jason would be perfect for each other now that I think about it. Let’s make that happen.