There were very few ways this night could get any worse than it already had.

Tatum genuinely didn't know why she hadn't gone back to her room, except for the fleeting hope that Frankie might come back for her, and they could make up and forget this whole thing. She didn't think it was going to happen so easily or so soon, but she couldn't help hoping desperately for it.

After managing just barely to free herself from Amber's clutches, she had gone inside for a moment, hoping to see if she could find Sera. When that plan fell through, it was like another hit to the gut, and she sulked her way back out onto the commons again, frowning the whole way.

She didn't know what else to do, and she was at a loss. Without thinking much about it, she crossed the grass, heading over to where she and Frankie had smoked early, standing behind the same shrub and ducking down slightly to get another cigarette. Her one earlier had been spoiled by Amber, and it was either smoke her head off or cry her eyes out at this point, and she didn't think she could handle more crying.

When she was little, her father used to tell her that if she kept crying so much, they'd have to put her on an IV. That memory made her smile a little in spite of herself, as she inhaled deeply, unaware of anyone else around her.

Really, she either wanted to be alone, or be with Frankie. And if the latter wasn't happening, the former would have to do.

But not for long, it would seem.