We've all wondered if our 8-year-old selves would be proud of who we've grown up to be, and it seems to be a question crawling into my mind often.

Growing up, I'd always wanted to do just that — grow up. I'd imagine going to parties and having great friends and high school would be a musical where I'd be Sharpay Evans and get my own way, you know? That was my goal. I never wanted to be an astronaut or a doctor, I didn't want to be rich or even happy — kids from my side of town never had goals like that.

The idea of being so self-destructive and fucked up as a 17 year old had never crossed my mind. I don't think that crossed anyones minds at that age.  When you thought of parties, alcohol and drugs weren't on your mind, nor was sneaking to the guest room and having a quickie with a guy that you'd be stuck facing at school on Monday, but I guess that's where my mind set is now. Maybe my 8 year old self would be proud that I'm finally grown up, or maybe she'd be disappointed because she'd always said that she'd never follow a step in Debbie's path. As I looked down at my best friend, I realised I'm taking more and more steps towards her daily.

"Come on, let it all out.." I soothed to Izzy, holding her shoulder-length hair back into a pony tail, patting her head with my other hand as she knelt in front of the white toilet bowl, throwing last nights vodka up into the toilet.

My eyes travelled down to her blue shorts and half top, which were stained with grass and dirt from the night before, and were still damp due to her getting into the shower fully clothed just minutes before the current incident.

My nose wrinkled in disgust as she attempted to mumble something incoherent, but ended up hunched back over the dunny, throwing more up into it until she had nothing left in her but vital organs.

She got up, focussing on her balance before clutching her head as her brown eyes water. She wiped the spit off her mouth with the back of her left hand, flushing the toilet with the other, before giving me a thumbs up to show that she was fine and left the bathroom, chances are to go pass out back in her bed.

I shook my head and smiled in amusement at how she looked with her hair sticking up before realising I probably looked just like her. Walking up to the mirror sitting behind the basin, I took in the appearance of my chocolate brown hair sticking out all over the place, probably matted for all I knew. I ran my fingers through it, smoothing it back before pausing, my eyes widening and mouth opening into an 'o' shape as I noticed the giant red spot on my neck.  I quickly cover it back up with my hair as the memories come flooding back. No, No, no.

I stopped to control my breath for a minute before I turned my focus on making myself look less like a girl from horror films.

My dull eyes were surrounded with smudged mascara, which I was sure would result in a zoo-keeper shoving me in a panda exhibit.

I opened the mirror up to grab the makeup wipes stashed in there, before walking into Izzy's room, taking a wipe out for myself before throwing the rest at her groaning figure.

She threw them back at me without lifting her head. "Fuck off."

I threw them back, hitting her square in the back of the head. "They're just makeup wipes."

"Well you're just a mole. Fuck off. I'm trying to sleep." With a roll of my eyes I walked over to her, ripping the blanket off her, resulting in me getting whacked straight in the ribs.

This girl was just a peach — to believe she was the cheerleader out of us wasn't easy.

"You're just jealous I got a root and you didn't." I teased, knowing it would hit a soft spot in her.

She rolled over, looking at me for a moment,!closing her eyes again before replying savagely; "not my fault I'm not desperate enough to fuck Keiran Garret, he's fucked nearly every girl on the squad." I ignored her insult, before sitting down next to her laying figure on the bed.

"Speaking of Keiran.." I trailed off, shooting her a cheeky grin and pulling back my hair, revealing my neck and watching her reaction as she opened one eye, peering at me, before quickly sitting up.

"Holy fuck. That's huge!" Izzy's eyes widen as she takes a closer look at the hickey, making me grin and roll my eyes at how ridiculous and childish we probably both looked, all hovered around one hickey. You see, I don't think Izzy had ever had a hickey. She's had her fair share of dick – although Jack was convinced his little sister was a virgin – but she'd never had a hickey.

I don't know why we considered hickeys a romantic gesture and to only let people we love do it, but we have always been that way.

Jack's had been the only one to give me hickeys up until then, so maybe it was symbolic of me finally getting over him — that's how Izzy would see it anyway.

"He was annoying me all night." I huffed, getting comfy on her bed. Keiran Garret was an alright guy, don't get me wrong, he was attractive and pretty buff but it's safe to say he gets attached to girls easily, in fact, all the cheerleaders he's rooted, he's probably asked out. Plus, he was clearly a bit of a nutter and Jack certainly didn't like him.

"Hey Aubrey?" I looked over at Iz, her eyes focused on me as I wait for her to continue. "You do realise Jack's home, right?" My eyes widen as I flipped my phone out of my bra, looking at the hickey in the reflection of the blank screen, and by the time I had looked up, Izzy was already grabbing her concealer from her vanity, walking back over to me and sitting back down after she chucked it to me.

I looked up at her, knowing I had no idea how to work with makeup, and she was definitely going to be a makeup artist. "Can you do it."

"Just fucking do it."

"No. You're good with makeup. Do it."

"No."

"Yes."

Izzy sighed, opening the concealer lid before squeezing some onto her finger, covering up the mark with precision and excellence in 10 seconds flat.

"I've never done it before, okay?" She set it with powder and took her hands away from it, stepping back, before tilting her head and squinting as she looked at it. "Now it just looks like you've been throat punched."

I checked the reflection of it again, before shrugging and offering her a 'thanks'. She was right, however, it did look like a dark bruise on my neck, quite a big one for that matter, but it was better than it was before.

"Go make breakfast, mole." She demanded, laying back in bed.

Whilst Izzy was good with makeup and fashion, I was the one who could cook and clean. Yeah, together we'd make a good wife.

I just rolled my eyes at her, standing up and opening her blinds just to spite her before walking into their kitchen, where bottles and dishes looked as if they were thrown around everywhere.  I filled up the sink with warm soapy water and placed all the dishes in there. They had such a nice house, thanks to their wealthy dad, but they had never taken care of it, and it was almost always dirty, littered with bottles, bud and dishes. I swear, I don't think Jack or Izzy have washed a dish in their life.

I took out the frying pan from beneath the sink, turning the stove on before spraying it, then cracking eggs in there.  l searched for bacon in the half-empty fridge, grabbing it out and chucking it on.

I jumped as arms sneak around my waist, before pressing my back against the front of Jack's body the moment I take in his scent, enjoying his warmth. I bit my lip as I felt his lips press against my neck, moving my hair to the opposite side before kissing my neck rougher. Jack pauses a little as he pulled back, looking, presumably at the hickey Keiran gave me the previous night, his body tensing against mine before he pulls his lips away.

"I'm going to throw up." A deep voice snapped me out of my delusion, my head quickly turning to look where the voice comes from, I narrowed my eyes when the Fuckwit himself comes into sight. He does the same to me, except his eyes are focused on my neck. "Fuck. The leech wasn't letting go of that, was he?" I flushed red in embarrassment. "I'm fairly sure that wasn't there yesterday, and Jack I just got home." His eyes switched to his best friend, before he offers his infamous know-it-all smirk. "You got a loyal girl there, Jacky boy."

His words processed and it's safe to say the red heating up my face wasn't from embarrassment anymore.

"Says you. You've never been committed in your life." Great comeback Aubrey.

"At least I don't act like I am, Bub."

Jack and I weren't committed, he was doing things with other people too. We'd broken up nearly 6 months ago, yet he had the fucking audacity to stand there and say I was supposed to be loyal, even while Jack was out there with other girls?

"Let her be with who she wants, Seb. I don't care." Jack said loud and proud. My eyes flickered to the pan, frying the bacon and eggs as I tried not to swallow, knowing it'd make me look like his comment bothered me. He didn't care.

Sebastian sat down at the table and pulled out a cigarette from his pack, chucking one to Jack, who unwinded his hands from my waist and caught it, before picking a lighter up off the bench and sitting down at the table, across from his best friend.

Okay then.