Chapter One

 Everybody at the party must have gone outside or into the kitchen to give the two young people privacy, or maybe they didn't, but it didn't matter to Orange and the guy she'd just met awhile ago. Beer was flowing, empty bottles on the coffee table and the floor. Weed was smoked out the back door, and Orange had done a little of that. They were on a green couch.

Her sundress was unbuttoned and the skirt ruched up by the young man's hand. His pants were undone and she'd felt what he had there with her hand, and then they were pressed together with their bodies on heavenly fire, dry humping.

"Oh, God," he whispered, and then he flexed, and then he stopped moving. He spoke into her hair, "Sorry. It's been so long." He rolled away and sat up, and so did she. And as she straightened out the skirts and her hair, she said, "Probably for the best it only got that far." 

And as he zipped back up, she could feel all the wetnesses and she took off her panties and stuck them in the pocket of her sundress. He looked at her one more time, and she at him. Her hair was brown and her eyes were blue. His hair was almost black and very curly, but it was long and slicked back into a ponytail. He had large brown eyes and cafe-au-lait skin, and an earring in his left ear, and a small neck tattoo. 

She got up and said, "I gotta go." 

"Wait," he said, but she didn't think he meant it. And he didn't come after her. 

*

Suggested listening: Brian Eno & Harmonia '76

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