The next day, Sheri let out a long moan as she twisted and turned in bed. The bright ray of sunlight piercing through the curtains hit her face, forcing her to squint. Slowly, her eyes cracked open, only making the pounding in her head worse.
"What the… where am I?" she groaned, clinging to the edge of her quilt.
Looking around, the space felt familiar, because it was. She was in her own bedroom.
"How did I even get here? I can't… I can't remember anything from last night."
Bits and pieces started to resurface. The fundraising event… the drinking… the tears rolling down her cheeks. And then, Max. Her eyes widened as the final memory clicked into place.
Immediately, she yanked the sheets over her head and curled into a tight ball.
"No, no, no… I cried in front of Max," she thought, mortified. "And I cried so much! I leaned on him. What was wrong with me yesterday?!"
