Ring. Ring.

After leaving the bar shortly after midnight, my roommate and I hopped in my car and headed home. I tossed my bag over my shoulder, into the back seat. Miles down the road a phone started ringing, it wasn't hers, and last I remembered, mine was in my bag. We let it ring and eventually go to voice mail. Moments later we arrive home, opening the door my roommate stopped in her tracks.
My phone was sitting on the table.
I turned back to the car and the back door was open.

(I do not own)