I remember two months ago more clearly than the rest of my life, which always seems foggy. It was completely confusing, and most of the details still don’t make sense. Well, not to me at least. I partied a lot, like I still do, and was very into drinking and dancing. I was kind of a loner, but who wasn’t as a freshman in college (well except for Emily, but that’s because she was a slut.)

I met Genevieve at a party, taking shots next to me. I swear she looked right at me while she asked the bartender- in that completely seductive voice of hers- “Would you give me an orgasm?” He supplied the shot, and we started dancing. My hair was long, she said she liked that in a girl. I told her about myself and she did the same.

We went back to her place that night, had a long talk. I thought she was going to be my best friend. Instead, we ended up kissing, drunkenly entwining on the couch, moving to her room. I woke up in the morning, shocked that I wasn’t hung over, a bandaid on my neck.

I should have worried.