he was older than you. four years older. and you were just young, only just eighteen. one of Sarah's best friends, always around Tannyhill, always giggling in her room during sleepovers, padding around the pool in your bikini, tanning on the Cameron's balcony.

and he, he was always watching. always observing. he'd watched you grow up. it was wrong. he'd watched your lithe, lanky body turn into that of a young woman's. he'd seen the way you'd gone from an insecure middle schooler to a shy but more confident high school senior. he'd also seen you changing in Sarah's room. you adjusting your bikini when you thought nobody was watching. you laying helplessly, obliviously, in the sun.

but now was his chance. Sarah was out doing God knows what with John B, and you were here, waiting for her like a good friend. a good girl. he answered the door with a friendly grin.

hey. looking for Sarah?