I didn’t punch him, though. I wouldn’t. Not here anyway. Maybe after the party. For now, however, I was a good girl.

Monica walked over. God did she seem to be around a lot. She smiled flirtaciously at Max, then over at me. The smile I got was more painted on. Painted on a monster toy, maybe. It looked like she wanted to open up those perfect pearly whites and bite my head off.

“Josephine,” she said. Apparently my name was worth remembering now. I stared at her. She smiled/tried to kill me again. Max smiled back.

“Max, come and dance with me,” she nearly pouted. Max, as I knew the idiot would, took her arm and left me alone in the crowd.

I sighed and headed outside into the backyard where music was playing loudly and people were chatting around the pool and felt like I was going to be sick.

I didn’t want to be here.

Suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder and a voice behind me. “I was hoping that you’d come,” said a voice.

Or maybe I did.