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"I don't get it. Why would he surround himself with alcohol if he promises to stay sober at his house nonetheless?" I asked Davina, as I stood in front of her elegant mirror, watching as she pressed clothes against my body. Trying to find my revenge look of some sorts. I don't think I needed one.

"Maybe he wants to prove to a special someone, he's okay. He did make sure you're coming". She said, factually she seemed to be one of the few factual people in my life. When I told her about Dallas and I, the whole full blown story between us, leaving out details that I couldn't share, they were too private. She could fill the blanks in, I left out most of the words he had said that made my stomach swirl, my heart pound. She concluded that we were lovestruck with each other and we were horrible at saying what we felt, because of those and I quote "stupid love stories" we both read. It was hard to avoid it for him, his father was a genius writer, he probably grew up with brilliant idea