American Sweethearts

57

"You've reached Detective Quinn Stone. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

I end the call before the beep sounds, not wanting to leave a message. I just want to talk to her.

I snuggle up beneath my blanket, trying to find some kind of comfort. But I can't find any. I've been trying for hours, with no results. I tossed and turned all night. I couldn't sleep at all. I even tried cleaning the apartment out of boredom.

No one else came home last night. No Tyler, no Owen, and no Lena. I called her, but she was so happy with Steph that I let her go. She must've spent the night at her dorm, because I haven't seen her.

I just want to go home. Back to Greenbay with Quinn, Stacey, and my mother.

The last person I want to be with right now is my father.

He'd make everything much worse. He'd make some kind of snide remark, or an insensitive joke that wouldn't help at all. Just his presence would annoy me. He doesn't understand relationships.

I turn over, cosying up against my pillow. But I'm forced to pull away. It's still wet from my latest crying session.

My tears have come and gone all night. At some point, I thought I'd run out, but they came back twice as strong half an hour later. My head is still pounding from all the crying I've done. The whole floor is covered in crumpled up tissues.

I grab my phone once more, deciding to try to call my sister one more time. But I don't have to. Before I can even press on her contact name, she calls me.

"Quinn?" I sniffle, my voice breaking.

"Yeah, what's up?" she asks. "Are you okay?"

"No," I shake my head. "I need you to come over."

"Why? What's going on?"

"I did something bad."

"What happened?"

I can't tell her about Tyler. She doesn't even want me around him, let alone dating him. She can't know about Christian either. So, I make up a story.

"I've been seeing Owen," I lie.

"Lena's brother?"

"Uh-hmm," I nod.

"Did he hurt you?"

"No, no. I- I messed up."

"What happened?"

"I accused him of doing something I know he wouldn't do, and now he's mad at me."

"What was it?"

"Someone said he was lying to me. I didn't know what to believe, so I just yelled at him."

"Sarah...," she sighs.

"I feel so stupid!" I cry. "I don't know what I was thinking! I was just so confused, I didn't know what to do!"

"Did you panic?"

"No, no, he calmed me down. But then he got mad because I... I," my breath stifles. "I didn't trust him."

"Oh, Sarah," she coos. "He's hurt."

"I never should've yelled at him! I shouldn't have gotten angry!"

"But that's a normal response."

"I should've just asked him about it like a normal person!"

"But you aren't a normal person," she tells me. "You're mentally ill."