"So I'll see you tonight?"

His voice smiled through the phone line. "Of course. We have a date!"

She giggled. "Ok. Tonight. Love you."

"Love you too."

Click.

Once the line went dead, the smile dropped from her face. She had something to do, and she only had three, maybe four hours tops.

Jeanine checked the house. Both her parents were out, just like always. Her brother was practicing whatever sport was in session this season. The house was hers for a while.

Nobody knew that she nicked the bottle of 100proof vodka from her parent's liquor cabinet. They will soon.

She went to her closet, and pulled the mini cooler out from under last season's tops and accessories. The cooler was packed with ice.

She dragged it from the closet, and settled into the huge, bright pink fluffy beanbag in the middle of the floor. The Smirnoff bottle glinted in the dirty electric light. Jeanine never thought she was the kind of girl who would find her salvation in the bottom of a bottle. She wasn't really sure what kind of girl she was at all anymore.

The bottle was ice cold, and she touched it to her feverish face. Her nerves were making her stomach flip about inside her body.

The gag gift shot glass with the flowers painted on it that her best friend Marni brought from Hawaii was settled comfortably in her left hand. Time to start.

An hour later, and a third of the bottle was empty. The taste was hideous, but nobody ever said straight alcohol was supposed to taste good. Jeanine couldn't stop laughing. Everything tilted slightly to the left. She had abandoned the glass twenty minutes ago and just sipped directly from the bottle. Each new drink caused her to cringe, but it had the desired numbing effect. Now she understood how Uncle Benny could be an alcoholic. It made everything scary shrink down to nothing until you were filled up with nothing. And, for her, the reason the bottle was in her hand was scary indeed.

She was determined to finish the damned bottle. She refused not to. But first, she really had to go pee. Jeanine tried to stand, bottle in hand, but immediately fell directly on her behind. Thankfully, only a little sloshed out.

Crawling on her knees and on hand, she somehow made it to the bathroom. Carefully (or, at least, as carefully as a highly inebriated teen could) she settled to bottle on the floor, and went pee. Thinking of the harrowing crawl back to her room, Jeanine cringed and simply settled into the tub basin, bottle in hand. She still wasn't done.

Twenty more minutes passed, and her head found the toilet bowl. She wiped her mouth, gargled some mouthwash, and tried again. If not the most intelligent girl, no one could say Jeanine wasn't determined to finish what she started.

The bottle was almost empty now. The world was swimming comfortably before her eyes, and Jeanine giggled constantly between sips. Everything was so funny! The shower curtain was downright hilarious. If only life was always this amusing…

Her head felt very, very heavy all of a sudden. Jeanine's blurry eyes took in the bottle. Roughly an inch was left. She tried to take one more sip, but the world slowly faded to black.

The pregnancy test found in the trash bin later that night, shortly after her dead body was found, read positive.