WHEN I WAKE up the next morning, the shower in the bathroom in Sinclair’s room is on. The sound of the water is what brings me back to my senses and forces me to remember where I am.
Sinclair let me sleep over at his place.
Maybe if I had been a little less tired last night, I would have asked him to call me an Uber or a Lyft. There weren’t many Uber or Lyft drivers in Willow’s Creek, but Utopia is such a huge, influential neighborhood that I’m sure there are quite a few drivers working. The fact that I had actually accepted the idea of staying here overnight was a testament to how fearless, idiotic and completely nonsensical my mind becomes when I’m tired.
Because, yes, clearly Sinclair isn’t as bad as the rumors make him out to be. That much, I came to realize the first night I spent
