Chapter ONE

It was snowing outside the day he called, changing everything. I remember glancing out the window, thinking how pretty the trees looked with fresh snow, just as my cell phone rang.

    He had been my boyfriend for just about a year. By the end of that month, we would celebrate our anniversary, I assumed. Neither of us had been perfect in the relationship, but we were sixteen for the majority of it. We were kids, really.

     "I don't know why I did it," he - Tucker Kingston - said, not sounding sorry at all. "But maybe it's for the best."

    "For the best?" I repeated. I was so embarrassed.

     I had already heard from Mickey, my best friend, that Tucker had apparently kissed Megan Jones at a party the night before. Someone else had told her, saying not to tell me. Of course she told me. I had been willing for forgive him for it, but he had other plans. He was breaking up with me.

     "We are going to be seniors next year," Tucker said, as if this somehow would make it all make sense to me.

     "So?"

     "So, maybe we want to do different things?" he suggested.

     I swallowed hard. "Fine."

     "Sorry, Bea." Again, he really didn't sound sorry.

     I hung up, angry. I'd given him a year of my life, being his girlfriend. I'd given him my virginity the previous September. I'd ditched my friends too many times for him. I had even snuck out after my Mom went to bed, to see him. These were all things I said I'd never do, for a guy.

     Tucker won me over with his charm, and, well, he had a car and a credit card at sixteen. But I fell for him fast, and we soon became inseparable. He knew my past, and I knew him getting me to "settle down" with him was a huge accomplishment. For him, it was like some award that he had, that none of other guys ever got. That first summer we were together was the best time of my life. He treated me special, he took me on dates, he paid for dinner. He kissed me like he cared about me. I was so wrapped up in how he made me feel, I didn't see the truth.

     Kissing Megan Jones - and as it turned out, it was more than a kiss - was not his first time being unfaithful to me. Before we had sex for the first time, he made out with Amelia Collins at a concert that he didn't invite me to. He admitted it, and I forgave him. For a while after we had sex, he acted like a completely perfect boyfriend, showing me off at school and kissing me before class. I felt on top of the world again. But it was never perfect, not even close.

     I had cheated, too, but only after the Amelia incident, to get back at him. But I felt bad and he was hurt, and yet we got back together a week later. I had no doubt Tucker and I would be together through our senior year. No, we weren't perfect. But who was? Somehow it seemed to make sense, us together. He loved saying that I was his girlfriend, and I loved the attention that came along with it.

     After that fateful phone call that I really didn't see coming, I decided to make myself get over it, fast. I didn't need Tucker Kingston.

THROW ME A BIRTHDAY PARTY, I texted Mickey the next day.

     My seventeenth birthday was two weeks away.

I THOUGHT YOU WERE DOING SOMETHING SMALL WITH TUCKER? she sent back.

NOPE. WE'RE DONE. I NEED A BIG PARTY. I NEED A REBOUND.

OHHH. OKAY, I WILL MAKE IT HAPPEN. DETAILS SOON.

     On Monday at school, Megan Jones' arm was linked through Tucker's as they walked down the hall, passing my locker. I had become very used to being with Tucker, so seeing this did hurt, a bit. But I could not let anyone know this.

     "Slut," Mickey said, too loudly. Megan flinched, for sure. "Next weekend. Big party, my house. My dad is more than willing to stay at his girlfriend's house for the night. Tell everyone."

    I hugged her, my arms touching behind her back. She was small, tiny compared to me, really. She was always wearing these thick framed glasses, even though I was pretty sure she didn't need them. Her hair was dark, and usually down around her shoulders.

     "You're the best," I told her, smiling.

     "That's what they tell me," she grinned.

     I had my first boyfriend at fourteen, freshman year of high school - Donnie Carlo. We mostly held hands and ate lunch together, but I got bored and without realizing it I began flirting with his friends. He ended it. I got a reputation as I cycled through boyfriend after boyfriend, nothing lasting more than a month or two, usually less. I liked it that way. High school was easy this way. There were so many guys, who didn't know me or my past. They didn't know my story.

     In sophomore year, Carter Paul asked me out. It was only weeks after Dylan Jacobs broke up with me because I didn't put out. Carter was cute, in a few of my classes, and I liked being around him. Prior to him asking me to a movie, I'd never really talked to him before. We dated for four months, my longest relationship up until that point, and we actually had a lot in common. His parents were also divorced, he had a younger sister. We liked the same kind of music and the same kind toppings on our pizza. But, somehow, we realized mutually that we were great friends, but that was it. Every time we kissed, I felt nothing. I knew he was trying, but the sparks just weren't there. I figured he felt the same way. We were really good as friends.

     After two more short-lived boyfriends, Tucker asked me out, near the end of sophomore year. It was just after I turned sixteen. It felt different with Tucker. I felt wanted, and when we made out, it was like steamy and everything. Tucker was a pretty popular guy around school. He had a lot of friends. I wasn't sure at the time why he wanted to date me. He knew about all of the boyfriends, and some of them were even friends of his. He told me he was determined to change me. And he did. But not in the way he intended to.

     The party that Saturday night was feeling like it was going to be amazing. And huge. Mickey made flyers, which we tossed at everyone at school that week. I just wanted to prove that I could still enjoy my birthday and get everyone to come, making sure Tucker knew about it but didn't show his face.

    Mickey's dad had raised her alone, and he was the coolest dad ever. As in, he let us have parties whenever, and didn't care what we did as long as we were safe and didn't let anyone drive drunk.

     "Dad said he'll leave the fridge stocked. He got beer and vodka," Mickey told me, the night before the party.

     "Your dad is the best. Can I date him?" I joked.

    "I don't think Macey would like that," Mickey laughed. Macey was her dad's girlfriend of the past few months. She was young and hot, and he spent a lot of time at her apartment.

     "I think a bunch of seniors are coming," I told her, changing the subject back to the party. "All of the juniors. Except stupid Tucker and Megan."

     "You don't think they'll try to crash?"

     "They wouldn't dare."

     Mickey and I had thrown a lot of parties, over the years. The first time we got drunk we were almost fifteen, invited lots of kids over to her house, and danced and drank until we puked.

     My parents separated when I was twelve, and Dad moved out right away. I was just a kid. I didn't know the details besides what they told me and my sister Talia, who was two years younger. Dad had done something that wasn't very nice (cheated, over the course of six months) and even though they tried to make it better (therapy for a year), in the end it was over. They both still loved us very much, blah blah blah.

     My dad was young, five years younger than mom. He was only twenty when I was born, and apparently, he felt trapped as soon as she was pregnant. He loved us, all of us, but he ended up hating my Mom. The resentment grew worse over the years and instead of fighting for his family, he cheated with a single woman who was even younger than him.

     Mom was angry, bitter and threw herself into her work, basically forgetting that she had two young kids who still needed her. We were ten and twelve and saw our dad every other weekend, but most of the time it felt like we had no parents.

     I was thirteen and in the eighth grade when I tried to kill myself. At first, it was just "self-harm". But no one noticed. I just wanted my mom to see what was going on - to see that I was hurting. But after months of cutting my arms and legs, craving the pain and the rush of blood, still neither of them seemed to care.

     Talia was just a kid in the sixth grade when she got home from school that afternoon. She found me in my bed, unconscious. I had left school early, saying I had a headache, and took a handful of pills from the medicine cabinet in my Mom's bathroom. I was trying to show my Mom that I needed help, I needed her. But she didn't find me, Talia did. And I made everything a whole lot worse for her than it had even been.

     She called 911. They rushed me the hospital in the ambulance, but Talia wouldn't get in it with me. She was only eleven, but she knew what I had done. They pumped my stomach and I eventually woke up, but after doing an evaluation, finding out our home situation, they admitted me for observation.

     Finally, I had both of my parents in the same room again, but it was not how I wanted it. And it was so much worse now. They yelled, screamed at each other when they thought I was asleep. They blamed each other for literally everything. And after that, neither of them looked at me the same. They did, however, pay more attention. They sent me to counseling every week, and dropped me off and picked me up from school every day. I wasn't allowed to go to friends' houses, or to the mall, or even school functions. Mickey stayed by my side the best she could, but they even limited my time with her.

     Counselling helped, a lot. It was likely what I needing right after the separation. Alisha, my therapist, was on my side. She told me she was happy I didn't succeed, since it was clearly not my intention. I found this to be true, eventually. I just wanted my parents to see me and care that I wasn't doing well. My feelings were validated. I felt okay again, finally, the summer before starting high school. But then again, I wasn't really okay at all.