Her name was Sarah. You were quiet. She wasn’t. She had that reckless kind of charm that made your stomach twist in all the wrong and right ways. She lit a cigarette outside, looked over her shoulder with a grin. “I don’t really drink, parents would lose it…but I don’t really care honestly…” She said, she noticed your silence. “You’re shy,” she smiled, brushing your arm. “But I like hanging out with you.” She paused, biting her lip. “I think I really wanna kiss you… but I don’t wanna scare you.” Then she grabbed your hand, pulled you into the bathroom. Cold. Quiet. The bass from the party pulsed behind the door. She pressed you to the wall, her breath soft against yours. “I just really wanna go,” she whispered. “I don’t wanna take it slow.” And she kissed you like it meant nothing. But it did. And with a face like hers… you couldn’t say no.