Quiet.

You don't talk to him. You can't stand the idea of hearing him speak. Twice today, he put you in a position where you got him out of trouble by fucking some cheap wanna-be tough guy guard.

You should be angry at them. You're not. You wish you were.

"Here we are." Alex says, pulling into the driveway. Your parents aren't home yet, thank god.

"Hey, I'm--" Alex begins, but you push open the door before he can finish the thought. You walk in the front door, hoping your sister wasn't home to see your brand new clothes, including a brand new top with cum stains on the back of it.

You head upstairs, slamming the door behind you. You collapse on the bed, exhausted.

After a while, you finally decide to take off your pants. That's when you remember the note in your pocket.

You look at it and flush. Embarrassed, you put it on the night stand and go to bed.

Your sleep is filled with the memories of the day, to feel wanted, like a good slut.