Bay City, Michigan

Scarlett jolted up from her bed with sweat pouring off of her.

"It was just nightmare," Scarlett whisper, tossing her tanktop and shorts to the side. Her tanktop and shorts were filled with sweat. To her side was Jake, covered up with half of the comfortable blanket and wore only shorts to bed, nothing else. She knew sneaking out wasn't actually an option at the moment. He would wake up in his studio holiday apartment alone, and knew his girlfriend had flee the apartment without a kiss goodbye.

She sat up in bed, making sure that the sheets were pulled up over her naked torso and looked around. Her vision were blurry - the result of taking her contact lenses out and  dropped down the sink's drain. Her eyes itched, but she could see through a window that the apartment was not on ground floor. With her blurry vision, there were branches of an oak tree right outside the window.

Sneaking out of a window would be unorthodox, maybe even insane, but she was insane. He might think it was odd when he wake up alone and she was gone, the window wide open, sneaking out wasn't an option anymore, she would have to face her boyfriend and the awkward thought of the sex they had.

She remember last night. She was buying drinks for her boyfriend, Jake, and friends, America and Zander at the bar. They all had fake IDs with their indentify and fake age. They all wore the same outfit, white linen trousers and ebony tank top.

It was like a mother dressed her four offspring in the same outfits.

She'd managed to turn to Jake, with too many drinks she couldn't think or know how to make her words sounds English enough. Jake pressed his crotch of the white linen trousers into her bum.

He grinned in what she assumed was the charming way, the sex move. She muttered something unintelligble and felt firmed hands against her hips.

"Like Father, like daughter," Zander said. He put a hand on Scarlett's shoulder and smiled. "You need to sit down. You are drunk."

"I'm not drunk, you are."

"I haven't even took a sip of my drink yet."

"You're goofy," she looked at the lady standing near Zander. "Who's your friend?"

"No one. We just met," Miles raised an eyesbrow and waved at the bartender for more drinks. "Annabelle, keep an eye on drunky while I pay for another round of drinks."

America nodded. "Gotcha."

"Want to know something crazy?" Scarlett turned her head towards America.

"Sure."

"I been in a sanitarium before, shhhhhh."

It wasn't a secret, everybody knew Scarlett had been in Falling Rocks sanitarium before.

"Just keep taking your pills, Scarlett."

"I will, Ms. Trothon."

Ms. Trothon was her psychologist for the years she was in Falling Rocks sanitarium, ten years. From helping to be a better sane human to caring about Scarlett. Without Ms
Trothon, Scarlett would still be mentally ill and unstable.

"It's American. Ms. Trothon was your psychologist."

The lady looked Jake over, took in his beginning muscular frame, then shrugged and walked away.

"She was about to become a pain. She was studying her eyes at me, and not focusing on Zander."

And then, somehow, she'd ended up here. Naked, dry-mouthed, lost of thought, head pounding, and barely stable.

She turned her attention at the tree branches, brought her knees to her chest and tried to remember what had happen after that. Memories were blurry and staggering into the apartment, and kissing Jake by the door. Memories were hardly there, taking her hands and leading her to his bedroom, and undressing her. The memories started to come back.

She closed her eyes and groaned. This wasn't what she did. That what she thought. She did not go home with Jake and had sex with him, however drunk she got.

The question is, did they had sex? The seed of memory formed, then into something firmer. Into her asking if he had a condom.

Are you sure you want this? He asked, bending overtop of her. Are you sure you want to take this to the next level? We can take this slow, you been through hell and back.

She was sure. She wanted this, her drunkself wanted this. At least, she was sure. Not this moment, though. Now she was sure only that she wished she'd said No, you're right. Let slow this down, I'm not ready for this next level. Too fast.

But he'd shaken his head, and it was too late to change her answer. He kissed her, and said I have to agree with Zander. You had way too many drinks at the bar and it's only Monday. Let's see if you still feel the same way in the morning.

She'd mumbled that she was fine, thank you so much, but truth was she wasn't fine, she was unstable and barely was sane.

How did she got so drunk? She didn't remember having that much. Red wine for supper, then a few gins and tonics at the club with her boyfriend and friends, after which her memories became hazy. She watched them sloshing over gins and tonics into the glass; that must what had happened. It has to be the reason, if it isn't, then she father like daughter. Well, she was going to have to be careful for the rest of the summer. This could not happen again, even the sex.

The rest of the summer. Right then she didn't want it, didn't have to stay here for another two nights. Heck, could stay there all summer long. Her friends arrived three days ago, America and Zander, on a week away to get Scarlett's mind off of her father's new girlfriend and unstable awful thoughts. She'd were sure her unstable thoughts were gone, but she was wrong. Man, she was awfully sure. It was something that ticked Scarlett off about Jodie Carson, her new mommy.

Her friends. They'd be freaking out on her whereabouts. She leaned over and looked at the piles of mixmatch outfits, tank tops and white linen trousers. All bought summer in mind. All bought with the thought she needed some fun and look good.

And to look good for what? Go to a nightclub and wake up in Jake's bed? Of course for that, she didn't look good to end up in a stranger's bed. She wasn't happy about the sex, not happy at all.

Her bag was next to the bed and scatter clothes. She reached down and grabbed it, then took out her phone. There were a bunch of missed calls from Jodie. But she'd been getting Jodie's calls for all week. She'd not answered any of them. She came here to get away from Jodie; the last thing she needed was a long conversation with Jodie. There were also bunches missed calls from Zander and America, and tons of text messages. She scrolled through them.

3:15 a.m., from Zander
Where are you?

3:30 a.m., from Zander
Pick up your phone! You have Annabelle and I worry to death.

4:00 a.m., from America
You better not had fun without me. Anyway, did you leave with Jake? Message us back, now.

And then, her reply at 4:05 a.m., in the group conversation:

Hey! I'm alive and well. I'm with Jake. I'll see you both in the morning. I'm fine you guys, don't worry about me. Love you both.

She put her feet on the cold tiled floor and reached for clothes and pulled her clothes on, pushing the thought from her mind that she had sex and have the awful stench anybody could have.

She didn't care. She'd never see those people again, and she'd never do this again, until she's ready for the next level. All she wanted was to get back home, shower, sleep, and forget this ever happening. She pushed the bedroom door open, and walked into the apartment. It was a typical apartment, an open-plan kitchen and living room, with two bedrooms: the one she had woken up in, and one which is still had the door closed. Presumably thought Jake's brother was still asleep in it.

Jake's brother, Zander was sitting on the couch, a mug of coffee in his hand, one foot on the coffee table, the other one tucked between his thigh. He looked up from his phone and grinned at her.

"Morning ,Scarlett," he said. "Why are you up this early?"