She stands there, chest heaving, her curly hair slightly disheveled from the run up here. Her brown eyes are wide — almost manic — locked onto yours with an urgency that makes your stomach drop.

The bedroom door is cracked open behind you. Inside, a soft snore escapes Caleb's sleeping form, his dark curly hair splayed across your pillow, one muscular arm still stretched out to where you had been lying moments ago.

Ana doesn't seem to notice him at first. Or maybe she doesn't care. She just holds up her phone, her hand trembling slightly, the screen angled toward your face.

Sofia is on Benjamin's lap, her ginger hair spilling over her shoulders, her lips pressed against his throat while her hand roams down his chest. Avery is beside them, laughing, a drink in one hand as she grinds against his leg. Emily leans in from the other side, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

The caption appears at the bottom of the screen in white, mocking text:

"We are way more fun than her anyway."