They got up and went into the closet they cleaned out for the game. He leaned over to me and whispered, “I hope I get stuck with you in the closet.�...� My heart started racing again but why me? Moments go by and the two kids sit back down. The bottle was spun again and it landed on me. I swore my heart stopped beating for a moment. They spun it again and, shockingly, it landed on him. He smiled, offered his hand. I took it and he led me to the closet. When the door closed I leaned into the wall to. “I’m scared,” I whispered into his shoulder as he held me close, the musky scent of his skin caressing my senses, his fingertips edging toward the centre of my back, the rain sticking my punk styled faux hawk to my scalp, the wind off the sea making it hard to stand on the cliff top. “Don’t be. I promise I’m not like him. I’ll never be like him.”There was now only one thing stopping us, stopping me, from taking this from this dusky, wet cliff top back to the hotel room up the street; my. More

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