I figured, in the light of day, this place and its bad reputation couldn’t do much harm. Plus, I was starving, and besides the bar across the street, this was the only option for miles. I was already showing up at my parents’ door, sad and pathetic because of a boy. I didn’t need to be sad, pathetic, and hungry.

Shutting off the engine, I exited my rental and headed for the door, continuously looking over my shoulder for someone… anyone. I felt like, at any moment, I would run into an old neighbor, my high school English teacher, or the pastor. It was just a matter of time.

And then I’d be plastered with questions.

So many questions.

What are you doing?

Where are you working?

We hear you have a new boyfriend? What’s he like?

What would I say? That I’d just walked out on my job, my boyfriend, and my entire life. That I’d booked the first flight home with my tail between my legs because I was hurting, and all I wanted was my mommy.

I took a deep breath, entering the restaurant and taking the first open table I could find. I did a quick glance around, checking everyone out with silent stealth.

Success!

Not a single face I recognized.

Thank you, Shady Shack.

It didn’t take long for a waitress to serve me, and soon, I was back in fatty heaven, eating a huge steak and mashed potatoes with apple pie and coffee for dessert.

After my record-breaking pig-out, I headed to the restroom before getting back on the road, too blissed out on food to think about anything but getting home. I remembered why I should have waited to pee the second I walked into the ladies’ restroom, hearing heated moans coming from the back stall.

“I told you to lock the door, Marty!”

Marty?

“Well, there wasn’t anyone in the restaurant when we got here, sugar.”

Sugar?

Oh, shit…

“Mom?” I blurted out before my mind warned me otherwise.

“Cara? Is that you?”

Why didn’t I stay silent? Why couldn’t I have just slowly backed away, like any other normal person?

“Surprise,” I said awkwardly, desperately trying not to gag at the thought of my parents doing the nasty at The Shady Shack.

Suddenly, the food I’d just consumed didn’t feel so great, sitting in the bottom of my stomach.

Welcome home, I thought.

Welcome home.

“I wish you had called, honey,” my mom said, handing me a cup of coffee, as she settled onto the sofa next to me. “We would have—”

“Delayed your afternoon plans?” I said, squeezing my eyes shut in a solid attempt to erase the memory from my mind. Hadn’t I endured enough in the last day or so? Hearing my parents get it on in a dirty restroom had to be added to the list?