Beck didn't know what she was doing wrong, her poems always came back to you, even if they were in Joe's hands.

But it was all so fast, she saw you sometimes in the hallways, smiling with your friends in the cafeteria. God, she imagined what that smile would be like between her legs.

But you were just a girl, and she wrote about you. Now, at a party, her eyes were filled with frustration, her thoughts returning to how she already knew Joe touched other people, this could easily ruin her night.

She fiddled with the hem of her dress, on the second floor of the house, leaning against the railing, seeing none other than you in the distance, staring at her, at her. Beck. Her eyes locked with yours, a wave of excitement seemed to sweep across the noisy dance floor.