Free Rebound Envy (Rebound #2) by Jerica MacMillan

not." I pick up the half empty bottle of wine. "But I've been working my way through this all afternoon. I'm not drunk, but I've had a steady stream of alcohol in my system for several hours now."  
    Jenna laughs and hands me my untouched slice of pizza. "Eat. You probably need something in your stomach if you've been drinking all afternoon and intend to continue."
    "Yes, Mom." She sticks out her tongue at me and I grin around the pizza in my mouth.
    We settle back and continue watching The Office. After we eat all the pizza we want, Jenna retrieves the ice cream from the freezer. She's just opening hers while we wait for the next episode to start. "I don't get one thing, though."
    I stop with the spoon partway to my mouth. "What's that?"
    "If you weren't that into Scott, why the moping and the drinking and the binge watching Netflix?"
    I let the ice cream melt on my tongue, savoring the combination of chocolate and cherries in Cherry Garcia, before answering. "I'm sad about the idea of Scott. And the fact that I stuck with him for two months when I knew a lot sooner that it wasn't going to work out. I'm throwing myself a pity party. Parties need wine." I turn to her and smile. "Thanks for bringing the pizza and ice cream."
    Jenna smiles back. "Any time. You can always invite me to your pity parties. I'll show up every time."
    We sit back and watch a couple more episodes of The Office . Jenna leaves around eight thirty, ready to go meet her fiancé who's on his way home from The Barrel Room.  
    I take a shower, feeling fuzzy and gross after a day spent on the couch drinking wine and watching TV. Despite that, I'm feeling better about my life after my pity party. While it's still true that I want what Jenna has, I'm also aware that I'm not going to settle and wait for someone to become who or what I want him to be. Life's too short for that. As nice and beautiful as Scott is, I'm glad it's over.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

    I plug my iPhone into the stereo system in my car and start Alice Cooper's "School's Out." Singing along at the top of my lungs on the way home, I replace "teachers" with "students" in the line about dirty looks.
    It's June 10. I told my students goodbye for the year, signed yearbooks, and wished the graduating seniors success in their future endeavors two days ago. My classroom is cleaned up, things stored for the summer, and my grades turned in. I'm officially on summer vacation.
    Not that this next week will be much of a vacation. Brian and Jenna are getting married next Saturday, and the next week will be full of parties and get-togethers. And all that craziness starts tonight. Brian's family has flown in from Wisconsin, and we're having a little party at The Barrel Room tonight for the wedding party and out-of-town family and friends that have arrived already.
    Jenna's bridal shower will be at brunch on Sunday. She insisted on waiting until now so that Brian's mom and sister could come. That will be at my house.
    The bachelorette party will be on Thursday night, the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner on Friday, and the wedding on Saturday. And somewhere in there we have to find time to finish putting together the table centerpieces and wedding favors.
    While all of that sounds exhausting enough, the thing that I'm worried about is the party tonight. I haven't been to The Barrel Room since I told off Adam just before Spring Break.  
    It doesn't feel like it's been over two months, but it has. The time between Spring Break and the end of the school year always feels like a vortex that pulls you down, down, down until you reach the end. All you can do is try to keep your head above water and hold your breath when you inevitably get pulled under.  
    Instead of being able to breathe now that school is done, I have another swirling vortex sucking me into its depths. And in the center of that vortex, I'll have to face Adam again.
    I left without giving him a chance to say anything two months ago, and I've made Jenna meet