After lunch we left our bikes chained to a lamp-post and went for a walk.Finlay started acting a bit weird, getting quite aggressive, he snapped at so...e kids who were dancing around on the grass and even slapped one lad who dared to laugh at him. I was getting a little scared.Finlay led us off the path into a stand of trees, he was fair dragging me along now, almost pulling me off my feet.Suddenly he stopped and pushed me too the floor and lay on top of me, kissing me roughly, his hand reached. “Well eighteen looks different than sixteen bro,” she laughed, lightly slugging me in the arm. “You look like an old man yourself.” “Ha ha, very funny,” I slugged her softly in her arm, not willing to hit her near as hard as she had hit me. “Well the rents are inside waiting,” she sighed, pulling the screen door open and motioning for me to enter hell. “Yay,” I laughed through a forced smile. “I am so excited.” ** Not only were the first two hours of being home a living nightmare, but dinner. The kiss deepened as they both entwined their limbs around each other, one testing the tactile limitations of the other. Eric could taste the contraband cigarettes and cheap vodka on her tongue. Sometimes he wondered if he knew her at all, but he realized that he was the only one who truly knew her, just as she was the only one who truly knew him. It wasn’t his parents that he told his insecurities about getting into college, or his dream of becoming a composer. It was Amata, always Amata. Eric. He was up late watching a TV show from the night before. The show was an international phenomena. It was a very off beat cop show. It was so off beat it ran in three different versions, in three different languages.The show had exactly the same plot line, and even the same characters, but somehow each version was a little different.He watched the latest two episodes because he had missed the previous episode. That was the beauty of the online TV shows, they were all there waiting for me. That.
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