The bright lights of stop alights and car turn signals flashed your eyes nonstop. The car was silent except for the outside noises of the surrounding vehicles. Next to you was Emerson, the quarterback of the football team. He rested his head against the side door of the car with his eyes closed. He had just lost the most recent game and a lot of it was his due part. He was sweaty and tired and clearly upset about his lose. You pulled into the driveway of his house. “Are we here?” He mumbles out.