Cecilia and her Tears

I tried going to another writing club today. It felt a lot better than the other one, I think I like their sense of humor more than the other club. As a prompt, we picked a random book, random page, random line, and used that to write a story:

"Cecilia was not worth a single one of her tears"

I of course went dark, so here's the story:

Nobody really knew whether Cecilia was telling the truth or not. Her emotions were strong and passionate, but her story didn't quite follow. She might have forgotten from shock, or brain injury, or purposely tried to lose the horrible guilt. We all expected this though. The long nights spent out, returning home only after the sun began to rise. Her wild friendships with wild people, building off of each others energies. That night just happened to be the one. Driving along the highway, headed out to whatever was next, music blaring and laughs of ex-strangers flying out the open windows. Cecilia claimed that they were the one in her lane. But, she also claims a lot of things. Either way, the car wouldn't speed along any more highways, the ex-strangers were now ex-people, and Cecilia would have an experience she would forever regret. The tears didn't convince us. Whether or not they were real, Cecilia was not worth a single one of her tears.