The Bucket List

four coolers and eleven shots

I can't feel my pinky finger.

What an odd sensation.

One time, when I was younger, I hit my head off of the floor in volleyball.

I was freaking out, my head hurt, I was dizzy, and I wasn't getting enough blood to my hands or feet because I was panicking, so I couldn't move them.

That was weird, but what's even weirder is when the only one you can't move is your pinky finger.

I try to wiggle it again.

Wait, I can move my pinky finger?

But just a second ago... Whatever.

I could have sworn I couldn't move it.

I look up from my finger, and I guess I was too distracted by it to notice that Kevin was standing about three feet away from me. I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear and walk towards him.

I take a step and then another, and then I stop, because what I see almost kills me.

A girl walks up to Kevin and grabs him by the neck and starts to kiss him. She turns around and starts to grind on him and he doesn't care, he just goes along with it.

I get it.

I knew it was too good to be true.

I am hopeless.

That damn pinky finger.

Kevin doesn't want me. What was I thinking? Why would I ever have thought that I had a chance with him? I thought he had changed but it turns out he's​ just another lying fuckboy who doesn't think of anyone else but himself. I did all of this for him, but he doesn't care. He'll never care. Because he just another one of those boys. And to think even for a second that he would see anything in worthless me. He had me convinced that he was done using girls and then breaking their hearts. This poor, drunk girl thinks she's so lucky that she got the chance to dance with him. But it doesn't mean anything to him. Even if I tried, and I got what I wanted today, it wouldn't matter, and I would find myself in love with him, more and more, every time I got the chance to get close to him, and he wouldn't even notice or care because that's what every girl is like around him and they're all looking to show off how good they are at sex, so that maybe he'll stick with them because they're good. But I am not good. I am me, and that's the problem.

Natasha comes up behind me, and grabs my shoulder. I turn around, to see her, looking concerned.

"Are you okay?"

"No. Let's go."

"We're not leaving yet! We just got here!"

"I meant, let's go find a drink."

"Morgan, you've already had four coolers."

"I don't care!" I say, trying to hold back tears. "I need it." I give her a painful look.

"What happened?" She asks, as Addison and Rachel find us.

"He doesn't care."

"What?"

"Kevin doesn't care about me, and I don't know why I convinced myself that I had a chance with him because I don't."

"What makes you say that?"

"Look." I say, pointing to Kevin and that other girl.

"Aw, Morgan, I'm so sorry."

"It's whatever. Where's the vodka?"

"Let's go find some." Addison says.

"Julian keeps alcohol for the inner circle in this cabinet." Natasha says, opening a wooden cabinet, trying to hide it so that nobody will see. She grabs a shot glass and pours me a shot. I down it and she pours me another. Same thing. I take a break after seven, and then do four more.