The morning after our night out, I woke with a pounding headache.
For a few seconds, I had no idea where I was.
Then I remembered.
Tori’s house.
The nightclub.
The music.
The dancing.
The alcohol.
And, for the first time in what felt like forever, I had actually laughed.
A real laugh.
Not the kind I forced when someone asked if I was okay.
Not the kind I gave Joss because I didn’t want him to know how badly I was hurting.
A genuine laugh that had come from somewhere deep inside me.
I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt that free.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone several hours without thinking about Joss.
And that was probably the most important thing about the night.
The alcohol had quietened everything.
The
