The surprising thing is that I’m not surprised how this turned out. I’ve treated girls as if they’re disposable. I’ve gloated over the fact that no girl could ever say no to me. My conscience knew all along that it would all come back to me one day.
I reach home at seven a.m.
Anna opens the door. “Shivam kicked you out before sunrise. What did you do? Cried on his shoulders all night.”
I flip her off. She follows me to my room.
“Leave me alone.”
“Not before you tell me why your eyes are bloodshot, and you look like you survived an earthquake?”
“Because I went to a bar last night and drank until I passed out. Now go tell Mom and Dad.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I’m a screw-up. They better control my unruly behavior now, or I’ll be out of their hands, which, according to them, I
