"oooooh," sutter growled with excitement as three distinctive guitar chords sounded over the radio, followed by a reverberating noise from the one and only tom petty. immediately, he sprung forward to reach for the dial, prompting a massive surge in volume in their cramped u-haul rolling down the equally congested california highway. his head was already bobbing up and down, and his feet tapped under him, but his expression, with its taunting eyes fixed on her, remained serious as his performance began. "well she was an american girl!" he shouted unexpectedly, "raised on the promises." these words sutter knew by heart, and in competition against the blaring car speakers, he sang (if you could call it that) loudly, enthusiastically, without restraint: "she couldn't help thinking that there was a little more to life somewhere else." he called on eden encouragingly at the chorus - "come on, baby!" - and together they roared, "oh yeah, alright. take it easy, baby. make it last all night. she was an american girl."

after difficulty with a myriad of positions in the confines of old unreliable, and laughter, lots of laughter, as their bumbling movements made sutter feel sixteen again, only less self-conscious, the two had finally settled into an enjoyable embrace following several culminations together. both still only half-undressed from their urgency, they laid, comfortably enough, in the jeep's tight backseat. eden's back nestled against his bare chest, as she floated up and down with the rise and fall of his gradually slowing breaths. their romp in the sack had done little in the way of sobering him. no, sutter was still very much intoxicated. in his daze, he studied the back right corner of her jaw thoughtfully. "this is my favorite inch of you," he declared, suddenly, before tickling her there. "it's mine. no one else can have it." his lips pressed repeatedly to stake his claim, and he continued, drunkenly, with his breath hot on her skin as he whispered nonsensically, "even if i die, and you get married to someone else and you're together for fifty years. this spot is still mine. he can't kiss you here, or touch you here, okay? no one can. they can't have my favorite spot."

the only sounds sutter had made for the last hours on the road were sporadic groans. he had not been this hungover in a looong time. that was a lie. he had experienced similar pain the morning after emory's halloween party, and while that was compounded by heartache and confusion, it was still no where near as bad as this. because he had not been forced to watch the landscape roll by out the window as his queasiness swelled, or feel the duress of every sudden stop or turn in the pit of his stomach, nor did he have to don a shirt still drenched in the last night's offender: tequila. the smell alone brought back memories that made him gag, and the air incredibly stifling, but any time he attempted to open the window for reprieve, the pressure of the wind had his head throbbing. "pull over, i'm gonna be sick," he cried after an unintentional whiff. eden hadn't even brought the truck to a complete stop when he burst out of the door, quickly tossing his cookies all over the side of the highway. a long while passed before sutter staggered back, looking green, with hollowed eyes. "this is all your fault," he whined, but ultimately, he couldn't guilt a pregnant woman about waking up sick.

"hey em! yeah, we're about an hour away - emory says hi - no, it's getting late and we're exhausted. i think we'll just wait until tomorrow to unload. you don't have some big date planned, do you? ... haha, alright, well i'm off until monday either way... you know, bud, i don't think we're up for drinks tonight. it's been a long drive, and once you hear about texas you'll understand why i'm never drinking again... no, i mean it this time! have one for the both of us, okay? i just wanted to call and let you know we're almost home. alright, bye man. love you."