Sierra Lancaster has had an agonizingly mediocre life. She grew up in a happy home, made loyal friends, graduated college, and is now pursuing her dream of running her own bakery. Boring, right? A story like this wouldn't be one for the books. At le...
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Remember when I said I shouldn't make decisions when I'm hungover?
Yeah. I didn't take my advice. Don't judge me for it, you little judge-y person.
Because I'm not actually hungover, like, under-the influence. I'm hungover on a moment in time that's long since gone but one I can't stop thinking about so it feels like it's still happening. Kind of like when you wake up after a night out and still feel drunk? It's all I'm thinking about so the ability to make rational and clear-minded decisions is next to impossible.
Yet that's exactly what I did this morning when I decided to go biking to clear my mind. But that's not all I did.
I chose to go on a trail that I've never seen, in a city I've only been living in for two months, with a hungover brain that didn't think to dress properly for the occasion. I'm talking shorts that I convinced myself I could still fit into, that are currently riding up my ass crack every time I pedal. I'm talking a black tank top that's absorbing so much sun someone could bake their eggs and bacon on me. I'm talking a total lack of bug repellent as I drive through a swampy trail full of mosquitoes that won't stop trying to get into my ears and nose.
I have to assume they're male mosquitoes if they won't stop trying to jam into the wrong hole.
"Gah!" I slap the air by my ear when there's a buzz that's way too loud for my comfort. My bike veers and wobbles and I fight to get it under control. Did I mention this trail is full of twigs and branches that are so not made for biking? "You little shits! I'm about to throw you at the next spider I see!"
Then I pause because holy fuck, are there spiders here too?!
Why did I do this to myself?
Oh yeah. Maybe because I didn't catch a lick of sleep last night, tossing and turning and thinking about my non-enemy enemy and how I finally kind of sort of know what his lips feel like. Then I woke up determined to make up for all the time I lost spent thinking about him and decided I would do something for myself. Anything to not feel like a teenager hung up on my first crush, which is embarrassingly partly true.
"You couldn't have spent time at the bakery?" I mutter to myself, swinging off my bike and brushing down my legs that are covered with leaves and dirt and dead mosquitoes that sucked the blood out of me. "You know, that shop that you pay a lot of money for and need to improve drastically?"
I sigh in resignation and look around with my hands on my hips. I don't recognize where I am. At all. The trail I'm on gives way to three different paths that could take me anywhere. I don't even remember which one I used to get here. It's also six in the morning and there's no one in sight. A serial killer could literally appear out of nowhere with the proverbial target I've put on myself. I could be murdered in plain sight and no one would ever know. He'd dump my body in that pond just over there and no one would ever know and Holden will probably end up with that woman he had a one night stand with and Mom and Dad will probably find my vibrator.
