I twisted and turned at almost every corner until I found myself parked in front of a tiny two story cabin styled home. Blake Trent emerged from the small wooden door, and growled “What are you doing here?” I jumped out of the car and told him “I have no sweet clue. I was just driving, not really concerned about where I go.” I showed him my conversation with my mother. He gave his head a slight jerk toward his house “C’mon, sit down, let’s talk.” The inside seemed to be somehow smaller than the outside. The front door opens into the living room, where a loveseat sofa, a mini TV, some TV tables, and a foldable lawn chair sit. I sat in the loveseat, Blake in the chair. He coughed, clearing his throat “I agree with her.” I gave him a quizzical look, he explained “Your mother, Miranda. She’s right, it’s disgusting.” he made a gagging sound. It reminded me of how immature he is. “It’s none of your business what we do, mutt.” I snapped “I didn’t even mean to come here! I’m leaving.” “Just don’t touch her again!” he shouted as I rushed past a pretty, pixie like, black haired woman. I got to my car in no time and set off onto the road once again. There weren’t many places left to go. Cyndi, Nate, or Christina. It was an obvious choice.