Today was my 19th birthday, and I felt like a brand new woman. My best friends threw me a surprise party at one of their houses and I bought alcohol for the first time. It was wonderful to feel so liberated for a change. The girls convinced me to let them give me a makeover, changing my style from sweatpants and sweaters to a short skirt and tank top and a push-up bra. I didn't think I'd actually enjoy this, but after a few drinks, I embraced my new, grown-up look. I was surprised at my new level of confidence and even noticed myself walking differently. I suppose I had to with these uncomfortable shoes they made me wear.

After returning home, I noticed Jack, my mother's boyfriend, gazing at me differently. We drank together for the first time, joked around, and casually flirted in the kitchen. I loved the fact that a 40-something-year-old was finally treating me like an adult and not a teenager for once. I daydreamed of us together, making love under the stars and waking up in the morning next to each other. I honestly didn't feel guilty thinking about him since my mother only used him for his money. He claimed to love her, but there was something so artificial about their relationship. The more I drank, the more spiteful I became towards her as I continued to flirt with the man I considered to be my stepfather. This whole situation felt so wrong but so right at the same time, which made it even more exciting. I wanted him badly, and I was willing to bet he wanted me too.