3

AVA’S POV

HEARTBREAK

What do you do when you discover your entire relationship has been one big lie? That the man who has spent two years telling you he loves you has been screwing your best friend-the same best friend who shares your apartment, borrows your clothes, steals your fries, and tells you everything including every boy in her DMs.

Well, you definitely don't handle it the way I do. You don't plaster a fake smile across your face, walk back into the club, and pretend your heart isn't lying in pieces out in the parking lot. You don't keep their secret for them. You don't let them think they got away with it. And you certainly don't start drowning yourself in whiskey when you hate whiskey with every fiber of your being.

Yet here I am, several shots in and my head feels pleasantly fuzzy while my legs aren't entirely cooperating, and tomorrow's hangover is going to feel like divine punishment. But I don't care. Maybe if I drink enough, the ache in my chest will finally disappear.

"Damn, baby girl, " Rodney's voice makes my stomach twist. He chuckles softly as he steadies me when I nearly stumble into him.

"I know it's your birthday," he murmurs, leaning close enough that I can smell his cologne-that stupid, hypnotizing cologne I've spent the last two years getting addicted to, "But I doubt passing out in the middle of the club was on your birthday bucket list."

His hand settles around my waist and instead of turning me on, his touch makes my skin crawl, "You don't want your brother killing me, do you?"

The irony is almost laughable. If Alfred knew what his teammate had been doing behind my back, Rodney would be lucky if all my brother did was kill him. I open my mouth, ready to say something curt to wipe that smile off his face forever. Before I can, someone hooks an arm around mine.

"Come on," Jill chirps brightly, "It's your birthday," she says with an innocent smile that makes me want to scream. "You should be dancing."

The snake. The lying, backstabbing snake. I force the corners of my mouth upward into a smile, "You're so fucking right."

Emma and Leon quickly join us on the dance floor, blissfully unaware that my entire life has imploded within the last ten minutes. The music pounds through the club while our bodies dance to the beat of the songs booming in the confines of this place. I dance with enthusiasm. Or at least I pretend to. Because while my body sways to the beat, my mind is somewhere else entirely.

When did it start? How long have they been sleeping together? Weeks? Months? Did they laugh about me afterward? How many times did Rodney kiss me after kissing her? How many nights did he tell me he loved me while she'd already been in his bed? How many times did Jill hug me and call me her best friend? Sleep in the room next to mine knowing she was betraying me every single day?

The questions keep coming and each one hurts more than the last. I steal a glance at Rodney. He's laughing with a couple of his teammates, looking completely relaxed. Then for the briefest second, his eyes drift toward Jill. It’s not long enough for anyone else to notice. She looks back at him, and throws him a quick, tiny smile. It’s enough to confirm everything.

My gaze lingers on her longer than necessary. What does she have that I don't? Is she prettier? Funnier? Smarter? More exciting? Was I never enough?

No.

Absolutely not. Why the hell am I questioning myself? I'm not the one who cheated or lied. I'm not the one sneaking around behind someone's back. He's the asshole and she's the snake. So why am I the one standing here feeling like I'm the one who did something wrong?

No.I'm not letting him- them win. Not on my birthday. I need to do something. Something they'll never forget. Something no one in here will forget.

"Hey..." Leon's voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts, "You okay?"

"I'm fine." The lie slips out easily. Hell, I even manage a smile.

"If you say so." I can tell he doesn't believe me.

I can tell. But instead of arguing, he simply moves a little closer while we dance, like he's quietly making sure I don't fall over. For a while, that's all we do. Dance. Drink. Well, I drink. A lot. At some point people start handing me tiny colorful birthday shots and I don’t even bother asking them what is on them. If it's alcoholic, it disappears in my mouth. The burning in my throat is nothing compared to the one spreading through my chest.

Halfway through what I think is tequila, though honestly it could be gasoline at this point I lean toward Leon, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"I want to blow shit up."

"Metaphorically?" He raises an eyebrow. I’m surprised I can decipher that move in my state.

"I honestly don't know anymore."

He laughs once before realizing I'm completely serious. I lean in even closer, "And don't interrupt until I'm finished."

"Okay..."

"If someone wanted to do something so unbelievably public... so outrageously petty... that it'd haunt someone for the rest of their college career..." I whisper, "...what would they do?"

Leon goes quiet, then he sighs, "Sweetheart..."

"Hmm?"

"I know."

My brow furrows, "You know what?"

"I followed you outside." I think I stop breathing for a moment at his words, "You were gone for a while. I got worried."

His voice softens, "I saw them too,"

I stare at him, "You... did?"

He nods once, "I thought you were going to confront them."

"So did I."

"You want to hurt Rodney?" Leon asks.

I don't even hesitate, "Yes."

"Then don't punch him."

"I wasn't planning to."

"Don't scream at him either."

"I wasn't planning that."

"Good."

He takes my empty shot glass and sets it on the nearest table, "Tell me..." His eyes flick toward Rodney, "Who do you think Rodney hates most in this entire university?"

I don't even have to think, "Chase."

"Exactly."

I frown, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything."

Leon smiles-a slow, mischievous smile that instantly makes me nervous. There is a reason why he is the king of bad decisions.

"You know why Rodney can never stand Chase?" He gestures toward the opposite side of the club, "There he is."

I follow his gaze and it lands on Chase. He's currently trying and failing rather spectacularly to dodge the relentless advances of a cheerleader rumored to have hooked up with him sometime last semester. She keeps touching his arm while he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else. Nearby, my brother Alfred is sitting in one of the booths with a girl perched comfortably on his lap.

Typical.

Leon continues.

"Rodney hates Chase because he'll never be Chase Rivers."

I snort, "That's dramatic."

"Is it?"

He starts counting on his fingers, "Stinking rich family, much richer than anything Rodney’s family will ever be? Check,."

I nod reluctantly.

"Captain of the hockey team? Check"

Another nod.

"Top of the class despite barely looking like he studies? Check,"

"...Unfortunately." It’s quite unfair honestly.

"Campus heartthrob? Check,"

"Don't inflate his ego."

"And," Leon finishes, lowering his voice, "he's probably the only person with enough influence to ruin Rodney's spotless reputation."

I look between them. Rodney. Chase.Then back again. A slow, dangerous thought begins forming in the alcohol-soaked corners of my mind.

Leon watches my expression change.

"Oh no," he mutters.

"Oh yes," I whisper, unable to stop the tiny smile spreading across my face.

Whatever I was about to do, it was going to be spectacularly stupid and I know Rodney deserves every fucking bit of it.