"Picture this: my best friend and my boyfriend of three years, staging their own rendition of a tragic romance novel in the very beach house I graciously invited them to. If only I had known my invitation would be the catalyst for a riveting tale of betrayal in a location usually reserved for family vacations and or trashy spring break fun. Long story short, my best friend slept with my boyfriend in my beach house.
An important detail, I also invited my boyfriend's best friend on this little disaster trip. We can call him Ethan. After about three shots of tequila, I decided that revenge was the answer. So, in the spirit of "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em," I found myself tripping into the navy blue sheets of my boyfriend's best friend's bed.
My best friend and my boyfriend had the audacity to get mad at Ethan and I for our actions, like they weren't the ones who initiated this whole fiasco. Obviously, it got really weird and awkward between the four of us after that trip, and none of us really talk anymore (its been a year). Until yesterday, when Ethan decided to text me asking if I could help him write a paper for his psychology class. Where do men find the audacity?"