Without warning, Annebelle runs down the hall, leaving everyone behind as she dashes out of the building to her car.

I'm jostled, bounced, and all in all smacked around by my blonde friend's massive breasts as she runs, unable to get my bearings. "An-na-belle!" I scream, trying to get her attention. "AN-NA-BELLE!" Over her crying and her heavy footfalls as she runs, however, it's really hard to be heard at my size.

Annabelle is still pouting and sniffling as she gets into her car, but as soon as her iPod plugged into the stereo system turns on, filling the car with the cheery, up-tempo strains of "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)", she starts to brighten up. By the end of the song, she's already forgotten her depression and is singing along.

"Uh . . . Annebelle?" I ask nervously once we're at a stoplight and that particular song is over.

"Oop," the blonde giggles, looking down into her cleavage to see my head poking up. "Almost forgot you were there, Mia! Don't distract the driver," she admonishes, "or I might crash! Just wait until I get home, and I'll play with you, okay?"

My mouth goes dry at the concept of Annebelle "playing" with me, but I maintain my cool. "Um . . . but shouldn't you have let Olivia get a look at me first, so she can fix me?"

"Shush," Annebelle says, pressing my head down into her cleavage with one finger, "don't you want to hang around my apartment with me? Climb all over me?" She giggles suggestively. 

I groan at being led around by my libido again, but quietly acquiesce and settle down. Eventually, after a rather long car ride, and some thankfully more gentle bouncing as she walks inside, I am set free and put down on a coffee table. From my perspective at Annebelle's knees, I'm unable to see her face past her bust . . . and with her skirt ruffled the way it is, it doesn't take much effort to look up it before she kneels down.

'So, Mia . . ." Annebelle says slowly, "I know you have a thing for all our friends . . ."

I gulp, having an idea where this is going.

"Now I won't be mad if you don't say me," Annebelle says, holding up a hand, "but I want to know: who do you wanna fuck most? Like, if we all got drunk and stupid, who would you take first?"

Nervously, I say, "C'mon, Annebelle . . . don't you think better of me?"

The blonde gives me a look. "You tried to learn CPR to have a chance to almost-kinda kiss a girl."

"I can't say I want an orgy?" I say, trying to dodge this very question. I'm honestly surprised Nicole has yet to think of it.

The blonde gives me a look.

I'm not sure what Annebelle will even attempt to do with this information, nor do I know myself the honest answer to that question. I've never really considered it, although I have had a major crush on all of my best friends for years.