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like she has been rode hard and put away wet. His taste in women never ceases to amaze me.
                  “Shane, what the hell? This is what you are ditching us for?” my sister says, with a look of disgust on her face.
                  “Ladies, have a good evening,” he says as they walk away and disappear into the crowd.              
                  “I forget, why are you friends with him again?”
                  I have to roll my eyes at her because she knows he has never been this bad. He started casually at weekend frat parties and has slowly moved toward the addict that he has become. However, he has officially ruined my night. I know Phoebe wants to continue this at home but I am completely wiped out. Between her getting hauled off the stage and Shane’s incredulous behavior, I cannot take anymore of this day.
                  We flag a cab and pile in. I sit in the back, watching street light after street light pass and get more depressed the farther away we get. If I weren’t so pissed at him, I may be crying about the fact that he practically ditched us. My anger grows even stronger when I have to push the nauseous feeling away as I think about what could happen to him. He is going to be with a bunch of junkies. I sigh heavily as I can only hope that he keeps himself out of trouble.

 
    Chapter Three
    Fenton
    I hear the loud siren of my alarm clock going off but I just cannot move. The drugs and alcohol are really beginning to take a toll on me. I hate the fucking statistic I have become. I try to quit, I really do, but I just can’t help myself. The thoughts and feelings that consume me are too strong and sometimes the only way to handle them is to numb them.
    I finally find the squawking box, pick it up and throw it against the wall; my head eases a little when the noise stops. I lie there a few minutes more before finally deciding that I can open my eyes. Once they are open, they are quickly drawn to the nightstand which is littered with the usual empty condom wrappers and drug paraphernalia.
    I look to the other side of the bed and am relieved to find that only Andy, my pup, is lying next to me. I scratch him on the head and once again lay back against my pillow. My mind begins recounting what happened last night. I honestly couldn’t even tell you whom those packs were used with: blonde, brunette or redhead? I have no idea. I can tell you who I hope they were not used with, my sweet brunette dance partner. Watching her on that floor was torture but the best kind of torture a man will ever endure. When we are together, and I am confident we will be, I want to remember every moment with her. I want to savor it. If she was here last night, I am going to kick my own ass.
    I blow out a deep breath and scrub my face with my hands. My muscles are aching from busting my ass all week at work. These hot as hell, mid-summer, Indiana months are getting more difficult for me to handle. I am only twenty nine but I have been in the construction business for ten years and it is grueling on your body.
    As I walk through my house, I note that everything is still in order. I hated being locked up but it did teach me two very valuable lessons. One-keep your space clean and orderly. This drives me crazy because if I find one speck of dirt, I have to clean the entire room again. Two- if you’re going to partake in risky business you either need to be very good and not get caught or you need to give it up. I haven’t quite figured out which category I fall in.
    I open the door to let Andy out to run the fields and curse when I notice that it is time for them to be mowed again. I love all of the land that I have but it is a pain in the ass to take care of. After rummaging through my cabinets, I find something to help relieve my pounding head. Conveniently, there is a shot of tequila still sitting on the counter to chase it.
    I notice the faint