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The ride home is beyond awkward, particularly because I have my arms wrapped around Bash's waist and my thoughts are flooded with the drunken memories of his toned stomach and also because me and Bash haven't shared a single word.

The awkwardness only increases when Bash stops a few houses down from my house, so my parents won't see me I'm sure, and when I turn around to say goodbye he's already speeding off.

As I walk down the street and up the pathway to my front door I try to rack my brain with what I could have done to make Bash so mad.

It's not like he didn't want to have sex with me last night, I mean he is a guy and with tattoos and I'm sure he was planning this since the second I met him. Well he kind of was in a way.

But so was I.

But honestly, he's probably used to the drunken night fling with a girl while I have no background in the field.

So why on earth could he be mad that we slept together last night?

Maybe he regrets it?

My thoughts are interrupted when I walk in the door and immediately I'm ambushed my Mom. My first thought is that she knows where I've been and that I lost my v card. The second is what the hell is she wearing?

Her hair is pulled into a semi messy bun, her makeup has not been put on, and she's still wearing her pajamas. For my whole life I've never seen my Mom come out of her room without looking anything but a wife from Pleasant View.

"It's your sister," she says simply and places the phone in my hand. Then her eyes sweep through my attire and she does something I didn't think she would never do. She smiles and walks away.

I stare at her retreating back with my jaw on the floor.

It takes a couple seconds for me to come back to earth and hear my older sister yelling into the phone. Shaking my head and thinking this whole morning is just some weird dream, I raise the phone to my ear.

"-ie! Sadie! I know you're-"

"Oh god," I yell in pain and hold my hand to my ear to stop the ringing. "Gosh, woman I'm here, I'm here."

I stomp up the stairs and into my sisters bedroom knowing that whenever she usually calls it's for me to check something in her room.

Her squeaky laugh fills my ear and I think back to Bash's laugh, or well if you could call it that.

"Oops, sorry sis."

I roll my eyes and face plant onto Sarah's bed. Everything is the same way she left it. The bed is pushed into the corner of the room and bookshelves cover the walls around it. Dark pink wallpaper with white patterns cover the walls in wallpaper. Large framed photos of Paris, Italy, New York, and England take up all the other space on the walls. Well then there's the random hanging fabric randomly thrown around and her messy desk which resembles a battle field with the needles, sewing machine, fabrics, buttons, and zippers. It looks like a cozy café.

Anyone can tell this room is hers by one simple glance, you can also tell it's been lived in. Which is ironic because as much time Sarah spent in this room stitching up new designs, she couldn't get out of this town fast enough. One day it was graduation and the next she was living in New York City.

"So what's up," I ask her.

"Well," she draws out. "I have something to tell you."

I imagine her jumping up and down with a big grin because that's the type of person she is. Her smile could lighten up a grave yard and her enthusiasm could make people start dancing at a funeral. She always had this spark in her like an eternal flame that could never go out. That's why everyone loved her. That's also why she got out of this town as fast as the road runner, because this town was too dull for her bright light, so off she went to New York.