Sarah ran after her, bare feet splashing through puddles of rain on the sidewalk. "Dana, wait."
She considered it for a second, and didn't.
Getting the sherriff's wife drunk and bagging her was certainly an impressive bedpost notch, but it tended to make community picnics a little awkward.
Dana turned the key in the ignition, ignoring the impossible blue-eyedness that had attracted her from the first moment, and backed out, almost knocking over the Bannerman mailbox.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She'd known it all along.
She didn't realize she was crying until she was almost to the end of the block.