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It's nearlythree in the morning by the time we walk in the door. One of us doesn't even walk, she stumbles. Being Amelia's best friend, I've seen her drunk a few times, but I don't think she's ever been this wasted. She paced herself pretty well for most of the night, until Knox had the brilliant idea to shit-talk her into a drinking contest. Zayn tried stopping her, but the look she gave him had him holding his hands up and backing away.
“I don't care what you guys say,” she slurs. “I beat Knox Vaughn at shots. I'm a goddamn champion.”
Zayn snorts because he all but threatened Knox into letting her win, but she doesn't need to know that. “You did, baby. I'm proud of you. But let's get you to bed, okay?”
She shakes her head. “I want Kennedy. She gets me.”
“I'm right here, babes,” I assure her.
Squealing, she quickly spins around in Zayn's hold, throwing herself at me with excitement in her eyes. I stumble back but manage to keep us upright. Her face is only inches from mine as she smiles.
“Hi.”
I chuckle. “Hey.”
Her head rests on my shoulder but she stays looking at me. “I love you. You're so pretty.”
“I love you, too.”
“You know, if I was a lesbian, I'd steal you from my dumb brother.”
Easton is clearly annoyed, having listened to her babble the whole way home, but Zayn watches with amusement. As I glance over at him, he smirks and bounces his brows like it's something to consider. If I wasn't holding his girlfriend upright, I'd probably elbow him.
“Okay, honey, but you're not a lesbian,” I tell her.
She juts her bottom lip out. “I'm not?”
“No.”
“Oh,” she says sadly. “Okay.”
I carefully pass her back to Zayn, and he picks her up, bridal style. As he starts to carry her up the stairs, she rests her head against his chest.
“I love her more than you,” she murmurs.
He snickers. “I know.”
Easton goes to help Zayn put her to bed, getting things for her like Advil, a bottle of water, and a trash can to throw up in—because God knows she'll need it. Meanwhile, I head into Easton's bedroom and let the boys handle it. If I go in there, she will want me to cuddle with her, and I've never been able to tell her no.
I take out my dangling earrings one at a time and stand in front of the mirror, just staring at my reflection. I've felt a million different things over the last few hours, let alone the last week, but I think right now I feel the lowest as I take in everything about myself.
“Remind me to punch Knox in the nuts the next time I see him,” Easton says as he comes into the room. When he notices me standing still, he comes up behind me and runs his hands down my sides. “Are you okay?”
“You know, before I started dating you, I loved my blonde hair,” I tell him. “I didn't care about the hours spent in the salon every six weeks, or that when it grew out it didn't look as good. I did it for years without a single complaint.”
“Where is this coming from?”
I shrug. “It wasn't until you started making comments about dark hair looking good on me that I changed it.”
He looks genuinely confused. “Did you not want to change it?”
“I don't know.” I turn around in his hold and look up at him. “Did you really feel that way, or was that just another way to make me look like her?”
Stepping back as if I delivered a blow to the chest, he lets go of me. “What? Of course not.”
“Don't do that,” I argue. “Don't make me feel like I'm crazy. I saw her tonight, Easton. You don't think I realized how much we look alike?”
He shakes his head. “I don't see it.”
