Ashley

Ronnie's POV

My breathing grew faster and faster as I drove closer and closer to my house. Ashley had gotten home safely, but I was still a nervous wreck. I couldn't believe what I'd just done to her. I finally pulled into the driveway, and slowly made my way to the front door.

"Ronnie?" whispered Michael.

"Hey," I replied.

"Dad's asleep. Be quiet," he warned.

I nodded once toward him, and locked myself in my room. I fell back onto my bed and stared at the ceiling. This was no way to start anything with her. Why had I let it get so far out of hand? I wasn't drunk, but she had been. I was somewhere near my limit, though. Maybe that's why. I sighed loudly and flipped onto my side. I looked at my alarm clock. It read 3:00 A.M. "Shit," I whispered and kicked off my shoes. I had to meet Max at the library tomorrow at 9 A.M to work on our history project. I fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.

The next day

I arrived at the library to find Max slumped against the outer wall. "Hey dude," I greeted him casually.

"Hey. Ashley was hammered last night," he replied, with a hint of malice in his voice.

"Yeah, I tried to get her to stop, but, uh, you know...it was a party," I struggled to say.

"Quite a party, from what I heard!" he said, a little more upbeat.

I smiled crookedly. We immediately got to work. Still, even though Max didn't seem to know, I still felt terrible inside. How would I face her at school on Monday?