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Carl whine making me and Courtney laugh. "So sad Allison died." I nod at Courtney. "Lydia and Kira are now the new best friend. Malia is like bipolar, she always wants to kill." We all laugh as we continue talking about Teen Wolf characters, even in our dinner we still talk about it, the scenes and everything. The night is calm I am now at my room staring at the sky, the moon is up in it's half moon with stars filling the sky. While the woods so quiet and dark, darker as usual, opening my window and take a deep breath of the first cold air, calming my nerves.

I don’t want to repeat my first mistake in motel disclosing my identity so I take control of myself and only drink moderately. However, Kevin and Porter are both totally wasted. It was at this moment also the half-naked boys and girls started crawling and grabbing us heading to some private rooms. “Umm, just so you know, I am still a virgin.” I stammered as my heart beats speedily. Honestly, part of me eagerly wanted to experience this matter. My thoughts show aggression and wanted to grab this girl with me in this room right away. However, the girl pushed me to the bed. I was babbling at first but when she started touching my private part, my whole body started to feel extreme heat.

I swiped the card, feeling my breath freeze as my hand curled around the handle. Nostalgia, they say, hits hard. Because for a good minute, I was transported back to that night… The night it all began. Until a year ago, I have always been the naive girl from a sheltered home, engaged to the boy next door. We went to high school together, our local college together…would have gotten married the month after graduation if I didn’t have to leave the state for graduate school. It was like Rapunzel, stepping out of the tower to the real world for the first time.

I lied. from the look of his face I could tell he still got some things to ask before I cuts in... "...Can you take me to the basketball Court?" I asked. "Yeah sure!!" He admits then we proceeded. "How old are you?" He asked. "Am thirteen" I responded without delay then returned the question to him. "Am a year older" he replied. "Wow, that means you're fourteen?" I asked. "Yup" he responded. "For how long have you been in this school? I asked.

"Yeah, anything! I think this is where the story should turn . . . naughty." "A little or a lot naughty hon?" Julie picked up her mother's hand and stroked it softly. "I guess that will be up to you. Like I said, you are the strong intruder with the knife . . . You are in control . . . total control as I am just a helpless . . . young . . . scared . . . teenage girl . . . eighteen years old but still sexually naive and very much a virgin." "Is that the truth honey? Or are you just saying that for the sake of our story."

It was fresh and invigorating, and it felt like the winds of change were blowing, as though bigger and better things were only a gust away. I was just another 18-year-old in twelfth grade. Unsurprisingly, that also meant I had teenage hormones that raged constantly, and I was always giving in to them. Aside from any pictures or videos I could have found on the internet, there were scores of pretty girls I found quite appealing at school. The combination of the two caused me to fabricate an endless array of fantasies in my head.

Since then, we'd lived with Chester's mother, Frida Sherman. While I didn't exactly have a good relationship with Frida, my busy work schedule had helped keep our interactions minimal. I always thought of it as a blessing in disguise. That continued until recently when Frida found herself a boyfriend, Bryson Ewing, and brought him home. Her son was already married, and she herself had been widowed for years. Considering her age, one would expect her new boyfriend to be someone of a similar standing. Yet, she defied expectations by dating a man ten years younger than her.

Sometimes I think rural poverty is worse than being poor in the towns. Her sexual orientation remained a mystery even to me, her best friend, perhaps her only friend. The other teenagers and twenty-somethings in the village had her down as a raving lesbian. I was only spared the same accusation due to my lascivious lifestyle, which made me something of a celebrity among the lads. Sid always took my arm, hugged me and kissed me lingeringly on the cheek when she got the chance, but she never overstepped the mark and embarrassed me. One day I will discuss things with her and find her a boyfriend, which I think, is what she really wants. But having driven herself into the ‘butch dyke’ corner by