Fallout (Crank 3)

my eyes. His lips are soft as they

move over my cheeks. And suddenly …

WE ARE KISSING

And this is not like any first kiss.

There is no love here. Only want.

He wants me, but that’s not what

I want. Not now. Not with him.

And my head is spinning. And his

hands are all over me. “No. Wait …”

Ah, come on. You want this as much

as I do. And he pushes me against

a wall. Dark here. No lights.

I could … But I can’t. Bryce.

I love Bryce. “No. I don’t. Stop,

please.” But he doesn’t even slow

down. You little prick tease.

His breath is rum and his hands

are rough. And he is strong.

Too strong for my drunken struggle.

Just as I’m sure he’ll do exactly as

he pleases, a male voice interrupts.

Take your hands off her, you little

shit, or I’ll kick your lily-white ass.

It’s Trey. I never thought I’d

actually be happy to see him.

Micah acts like I’m burning him.

He lets go so fast, I sway without

his support. Uh. Okay. Sorry, man.

We’re just a little d-drunk here, a-a-and

I … guess we got our signals crossed.