‘Where have you been?’
‘Out.’ The girl absently wraps a finger round a lock of tousled hair.
‘Out where?’ Her father stands by the fridge, trying to keep his temper in check.
She doesn’t reply, staring at a placemat.
‘It’s gone four in the morning, Sarah! We’ve been worried sick.’
‘I was at Chloe’s.’
‘No you weren’t! You were to be back at eleven.’
Sarah rolls her eyes, but stays silent. All she wants is some sleep and to forget.
‘You’re fifteen, Sarah.’
‘So you can’t just do what you want!’
She stares up at him with defiant eyes.
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.