Addicted

Chapter 1

I sat at my desk, dazed off into space, daydreaming about the possibilities of traveling the world. Completely oblivious to the conversations and the room around me.

"Uh- hello?" I jumped at the contact as my friend slapped my desk in front of me.

"What the hell?" I exclaimed, glaring at Brenden. 

"I asked you a question, what are you doing this weekend?" He said, slightly annoyed, pouting.

"What do you think?" I huffed, "Working as always."

Brenden rolled his eyes, "I don't get it, why do you work so much?"

"Someone has to pay my rent," I smirked at him, "Unless you were volunteering?"

"Fuck that!" Brenden said pushing himself away from me.

"I appreciate your sentiments, now why were you asking?" I replied.

Brenden moved back towards me, "I'm just so stressed about all this work Dr. B has us doing, I wanted to have a wine night."

I thought about it for a moment, a night in relaxing with a good Cabernet would do me some good. "Well, I get off at 8 tomorrow and don't have to work until noon on Sunday. So, I guess." 

"Hell yes! Don't worry I'll bring the booze, as long as you promise to cook for me." He winked.

"Fine. Whatever." I told him as Ava and Bree joined us.

Brenden was already inviting them before I could get a word out, I didn't want to have to cook for four people, food was expensive enough for one person. 

"Sorry Sav, I'm working late that night," Ava said, shaking her head.

Bree crossed her arms, giving us a disappointed look, "You guys know I don't drink, plus your still underage Savannah."

I rolled my eyes at her and turned away to check my email while Brenden fought her on that point. I was just ready to get out of this place. Shaving half a year off wasn't enough to end my restlessness to finish college. I just wanted to get out into the world and see everything. I wanted to meet new people and learn new languages; not sit at a desk for hours a day.

Not long after Brenden had given up on convincing Bree that my age didn't matter when it came to enjoying the different 'pleasures of life,' our professor walked in and class began.

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Overall, life had been pretty fair to me. I had a stable job, enough savings to pay for college, and a supportive family, even if we did disagree at times. I couldn't complain about much. It wasn't until I had moved out of my parent's house though, that I really began to understand the world better and earn a greater respect for people different than myself. I wouldn't say I was sheltered, however, my parent's believe's were my own before moving out and going to college. 

My life had never been particularly exciting, I didn't drink until Halloween of my sophomore year, I've never done any kind of drug and I most certainly had never had sex. I had my fair share of ups and downs, visited a couple countries on mission trips in high school. I dated that one bad boy in high school that I thank God I never went too far with, considering he's now in rehab, after going to jail a couple times. But, unlike my roommate who was galavanting off in Italy, meeting rich heirs to companies and running like a crazy person, drunk in the streets of Venice, all while studying abroad; I spent most evenings up late doing homework, after working a full shift and attending class.