When Cierra returned to the hotel, she found Ashlynn asleep, curled into a ball beneath the blankets. She sighed to herself, shaking her head. She shouldn't have let Ashlynn leave by herself. She knew how bad Ashlynn got when she was on her own.

She looked at herself in the mirror, wiping away at her eyes with the back of her hand. Her mascara had begun to run on the walk home, dragged down her face by tears. Biting her lip, she stepped into the bathroom, running the water. It was icy cold as she splashed it onto her face, rubbing her eyes. It was ineffective, she knew, but she had forgotten to pack makeup wipes for the trip.

She managed to wipe away her makeup, running her fingers through her dark hair before she stepped back out into the bedroom. With a soft breath, she pulled Ashlynn's cell phone from her pocket, laying it down on the drawers.

She closed her eyes, rubbing her temples as she tried to ward off the start of a headache. She was tired, but it was only nine in the morning, and she knew going to sleep then would ruin her morning. She resolved to go to the bar, hoping to ease her stress with a drink.

Liz glanced up at her as she approached. "Where's your friend?" she asked, and Cierra shook her head.

"Asleep," she replied.

"Late night?"

"Bad morning."

Liz nodded at that. "I see. What can I get you?"

"Shot of vodka."

"Coming right up."

Cierra lowered her head, settling into a stool as Liz poured the drink, setting it down in front of her. "Thanks," she said, and she downed the shot quickly. Liz flashed a smile in response, leaning forward on her elbows. "You okay?" she asked.

"We got into a stupid fight," Cierra said. "I don't even know why. Sometimes she's just so fucking annoying."

"She might say the same about you."

Cierra snorted at that. "Yeah, I'll bet. Sometimes I just don't get why we're friends, though."

Liz shrugged, refilling the shot glass. Cierra nodded in thanks. "She called me a bad friend, and I guess I am, but it sucks to hear it, you know? She never blows up, so to have her shout at me, it's just weird."

"Sometimes the calmest people get the angriest."

Cierra chuckled despite herself, drinking the shot and shaking her head. "God, that's true. But I'm so used to her not sticking up for herself that I just kind of figured I could say whatever and it wouldn't matter."

She waved a hand, urging Liz to refill the glass, and she did. She drank the shot, sighing. "She's like a little kid, you know? Like, you have to always hold her hand and tell her everything's going to be all right. I get that she has anxiety and all that, but she can take care of herself, can't she?"

Liz didn't answer, and Cierra sighed one more time before she buried her head in her hands. "I should apologize to her. God, I'm an awful friend. She's right."

Liz smiled reassuringly, reaching out to squeeze Cierra's shoulder. "I'm sure you two will make up. How long have you been friends for?"

"Since we were little," Cierra replied. "I'm a year older than her, so I've always kind of been like her big sister. But lately it's been like I'm her mother, making sure she takes her pills, making sure she does everything she's supposed to. She has all these rules, she has to take a pill every morning, and she can't have them on an empty stomach or she gets sick. She can't tap her fingers or she gets too obsessed with it and gets loud, so if we're out she has to keep her hands on the tables."

"Strict rules keep things in check."

"But it's so annoying."

"Sometimes we have to deal. Even if we don't like it."

"Well, I hate it."

Liz hesitated a moment before she spoke again. "Do you hate her?"

"You know, I've thought about that. And I'm not really sure. I hate the hassle that comes with her, but she's sweet. She's so nice and naive, it's adorable in a way, you know? But it's so hard to deal with her and all the problems that come with her."

"It's not your responsibility."

"But it is. I'm the only person she's around besides her parents."

"She can do things for herself."

"I'm not sure she can."

Liz shrugged at that. "Maybe. But you should let her try and figure that out for herself."

"I don't want to throw her into the deep end."

"If you don't, she'll never learn to swim."

"How can she when she's afraid of the water?"

Liz didn't answer for a moment. She shook her head, stepping back from the bar. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "But you have to let her try. She needs to grow. Grow and learn and become her own person."

"I just want her to be safe," Cierra said.

"But it's not your job to make sure that happens."

Cierra nodded. "You're right," she admitted, shoving the shot glass toward Liz, who refilled it dutifully. "I just need to leave her be."

Liz nodded, watching Cierra drink the shot. "She doesn't constantly need you. You just want to feel needed," she said.

Cierra didn't answer.