Sarah walked home alone, in the dark. The agitated rapidness of her forward motion had everything to do with distraction and nothing to do with the fear walking alone in the dark was supposed to summon forth in young women.
A cold fire burned awkwardly in her chest. She fidgeted with wide bracelets while she crossed the outer edge of an orange streetlamp. She touched her face and bright blue hair too often in the long dark stretches between.
She kept smiling while watching the whir of asphalt beneath her feet. She wrung her hands and looked pleadingly at the far away stars.
He was so cute and so sweet. She sighed softly through curling lips, distant blue headlights dancing in her dark eyes.
She frowned and held her leather-wrapped wrist tight in her other hand. He was too sweet. Tim gave him a tic-tac and told him it was Vicodin. He had no idea. Tim is such an asshole!
Sarah stopped in the lonely black middle of the street and kicked the unyielding pavement. Oh my god! I am such a poser.
She had no idea how to feel when she careened into her bedroom and crashed face first into her mattress. She remained a taught string stretched between excitement and embarrassment and total unsurety.
When she finally fell asleep that night, it was with a smile on her lips.