"Really?" Pinoe asked. "She just walked out."
Moe, Alex and Pinoe sat in the hotel lobby eating breakfast. Tobin had not been seen since the night before.
"Yeah," Alex nodded. "She was just so angry that I chose Servando over her."
"No offense," Moe mumbled through a mouthful of pancakes. "But I would be too. I mean, she's your girl. When you think about it, it's really not her fault."
"Are you blaming me for this?!" Alex asked angrily, slamming her fist on the table.
Pinoe quickly jumped to Moe's offense.
"No ones blaming you, Alex," she said. "Tobin's probably just blowing off some steam. She'll be back soon."
Alex sighed.
"I hope you're right. This is really not like her..."
----------------------------------------------
Tobin woke up in an alleyway with a throbbing headache, surrounded by empty beer bottles.
"Holy shit," she cursed, holding her head.
Tobin sat up and leaned her back against the brick wall, recalling the night before.
After her fight with Alex, she had taken a cab to downtown Houston and walked into the nearest bar.
Tobin had never gotten drunk. It was simply against her faith. But all that faith went out the window as she downed glass after glass, bottle after bottle, of any alcoholic beverage she could get her hands on.
He'll pounded in Tobin's head as she got to her feet and steadied herself. She staggered into a nearby gas station and bought four things: a donut, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and a beer.
Back outside, Tobin popped a cig in her mouth and lit it.
This was her life, thanks to Alex Morgan.