Jon found Sarah in the kitchen, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. Upon seeing him rushing into the room, Sarah stared at him.
"What the hell is going on? And what are YOU doing here?"
"First off," said Jon. "Do you know who's house this is?"
Sarah looked at him. She was upset, but she wasn't stupid. Clearly, Jon didn't know anything more than she did. "No...What are you wearing?"
"I don't think you are one to talk, Sarah," he said. "Considering what you are wearing..."
She looked at him. "Stop looking..." she said.
"Why didn't you just put on a shirt or something?"
"I didn't go to sleep like this..." She said, shrilly. Sarah could sound like a real harpy sometimes when she was upset.
"And you think I went to sleep looking like this?"
"How should I know what you dress up like at home?" Sarah said.
"Look...we're in this together," Jon insisted. "I don't know how this happened, and you don't know. Can't we call a truce or something?"
Sarah thought about it. "Fine..." she said. "But if you ever tell anyone about this..."
"Like I'd want your friends on the football team to know about this," he said.
She nodded. They both looked around in silence. What should they do now?
