There are times in your life when you're forced to make tough choices. What to do next, where to go, what's best for the future...even if it sucks right now. It's strictly a gamble, especially when we can't see into the future, meaning you take this pain without knowing it'll matter in the future. Will the things we're worried about happen? Will this precaution even matter? Is this decision truly the best option? Or is there another way?

For me, that was the worst part. The not knowing.

I'd taken on someone else's burden, someone else's secret, as my own, and I was letting it destroy my life. I couldn't even feel sorry for myself because it wasn't like I had to do this. I didn't. I could've said, 'Shove it,' and lived a very happy life. I could've learned to get past the guilt, eating away at me every single day, and forgotten all about it. But no, someone handed me a match and asked me to set myself on fire. I should've laughed in her face, but instead I doused myself with gasoline and endured the flames.

Six months had passed, and here I was. Charred to a crisp, my world turned to ash, and everything I touched burned along with me. My relationships, my job, my future education. My roommate barely spoke to me, my boss was about to fire me, and I didn't have the scholarships needed to start school in January. The summer passed in a flash, and - while everything green and bright died around me - my hope for the future withered.

After what happened, after that bitch blackmailed me, everything went to hell in a handbasket. Andrew returned from his trip to Los Angeles expecting to find a happy Cait waiting for him, but instead I was a bundle of nervous energy 24/7. The walls I'd started to lower around my heart went back up, with reinforcements, and I distanced myself from him. Dinner plans were consistently canceled, texts ignored, until - eventually - he stopped trying.

Val did her best to coordinate things. She contacted Andrew and invited him out with our friends, but I did everything I could to avoid him. Alcohol became my best friend, and I depended on it to keep the mask of happiness glued to my face. Socially, I was fun and carefree. After I turned 21, a penchant for margaritas turned into the need for something stronger, so vodka filled the void. It made me happy, bubbly, and energetic once more, and everyone pretended that it was all okay. Even Andrew continued meeting up with us, but - like a moth to the flame - eventually everyone got burned.

One particular night out, we were joined by several friends. Andrew brought some of his friends and cast members - including Val's dream man, Dylan O'Brien - and we dragged several of our work friends with us. Roxanne and Anastasia joined us, along with some of our friends from work. Sariah and Lilly brought one of the new employees, Danielle, and we all met at one of the best dive bars in our area. We arrived first, so I quickly convinced Val, Roxanne, and Anastasia to join me in a round of shots at the bar. While they hunted for a table, I asked the bartender for a double shot of vodka - tossing it back with a grimace - before grabbing a beer and taking back to the table to join my friends. By the time everyone else showed up, I was completely hammered and less-than-lucid. The more intoxicated I became, the louder I laughed. My brokenness was hidden behind a shot glass, and - while I pretended to have the time of my life - I felt like I was suffocating.

My friends tried to convince me to swap my beer for water, but I kept ordering shots for the table. Eventually, only a few of our group was keeping up with me as my drunken exuberance shifted from cute and fun to annoying. Val grabbed my hand, pulling me away from the table to insist that I needed to take it slow, but I laughed in her face. Like the wonderful friend that I was, I told her that she needed to stop being my mother and start being a little more fun if she wanted a guy to be interested in her.

Furious and completely drunk, I marched back to the table and practically climbed into Dylan's lap - damn the onlookers - and attached my lips to his. Both Val and Andrew watched, stunned, as I forced my tongue into his mouth before he carefully detached us. He laughed awkwardly, unwinding my arms from where they had wrapped around his neck, and looked to his friends for assistance while I burned with shame. Outside, I seemed laughing and carefree. Inside, I felt like I was dying. Not only had I betrayed my best friend, I'd put the final nail into the coffin of my potential relationship with Andrew.

I knew what I'd done. I knew that I'd gone too far.

It was for the best, I reminded myself, thinking back on that fateful night. Andrew had Danielle now. The two hit it off after that night, and I wasn't surprised. She liked him, that much was obvious, and she had been positioning herself to be close to him all night. With her immaculately curled dark brown hair, oversized sweater, and high-waisted shorts, she was the epitome of low-key gorgeous. Laughing at all of his jokes without being obnoxious, Danielle was the perfect foil for the trainwreck I'd become. She was petite, at least a foot shorter than Andrew, and - most importantly - she wasn't making a drunken fool of herself like me.

I couldn't really blame him for moving on, as much as I wanted to.

"Hey," Val told me when I walked in the door to our tiny apartment.

I nodded in response, kicking off my shoes and dropping my keys on the counter. I wanted to grab one of the beers I had leftover from the previous evening in the refrigerator, but instead I walked over to the sofa and collapsed into the bright red cushions. Val climbed down from her bunk, closing her laptop carefully, and walked into the kitchen to grab herself a coconut water.

"Want one?" She asked, holding up one of the small cartons.

I shook my head, and she closed the refrigerator before opening her water and taking a sip. We stayed silent for a few minutes, neither of us certain what to say to the other. I wanted to apologize for that night five months ago, for breaking one of the most important rules of best friendship, and to admit that I carried around that guilt with me every single day, but I stayed silent. I just stared at the wall like I did most nights, my headphones in my ears without a single note of music playing. My solace had turned into my nightmare, and I couldn't stand listening to music of any kind. I avoided it like the plague, refusing to attend any shows or concerts, and wearing my earbuds only to prevent people from starting a conversation with me.

After the long shift I'd worked today, I was too tired to pull out my headphones like I did every other night. I spent so much of my time and effort avoiding Val, avoiding the conversation I knew she wanted to have, but I didn't have it in me to hide right now.

"I'm not mad at you," Val's voice was hardly more than a whisper as she stared at me, clutching the coconut water with both hands. "I don't know what you expect to happen, but I'm not angry. I'm not going to yell at you or something."

I sighed, "I know."

"Cait," she said sadly. "I'm worried about you. You know you can tell me what's wrong. I just want to help."

Shaking my head, I rested it on the back of the sofa. I wanted to tell Val the truth - that I was being blackmailed by some girl who decided it would be fun to ruin my life - but I couldn't do it. I couldn't destroy someone else's life in an attempt to save my own, no matter how much I wished I could.

"It would be a lot easier if you were mad at me," I admitted softly.

Val frowned, "What can I do?"

"Nothing," I snapped. My voice softened, recognizing the look of pain on her face, and I sighed, "Nothing. I'm sorry."

We fell back into an uncomfortable silence, two bodies inhabiting the same living space - so familiar with each other and our habits, yet so different. I had become a shell of my former self, retreating further and further inward, while Val tried time and time again to pull me back out. She never gave up, I'll admit that much, and part of me was grateful that she hadn't gotten sick of me and tossed me out on my ass. I deserved it. I knew that I did. Especially after all that I'd done.

"I really fucked everything up, didn't I?" I croaked, failing to push the emotion out of my voice.

Val hesitated, and I laughed bitterly, "That was a rhetorical question. You don't need to protect my feelings. God knows I don't deserve it after everything I've done."

"What have you done?" She asked gently, almost as if speaking too loud might spook me. "What's going on? Cait, we're all worried about you. Peter brought me into the office today to ask if you were okay. I'm worried he might have to fire you. Roxanne and Anastasia keep asking me why you haven't answered your texts, you hardly speak to anyone at work - Lilly and Danielle are convinced that you hate them."

I bite back a sarcastic reply. Of course they're worried that I hate them. Everyone is worried about Cait. The good girl fell off the wagon. The good girl lost her way. That's what they all care about, right? Watching someone fall? I knew that I'd become bitter over the last six months, jaded by the world and all of its inhabitants, but this was a new low.

The truth was...I couldn't hate them because I was too busy hating myself.

"Have you heard from him?" Val spoke up again.

I blinked slowly, the ghost of tears long since dried pricking at the corner of my eyelids as I shook my head.

"No," I mumbled. "No, I haven't heard from him."