Brian

She was beautiful. I didn't know what that word meant, I still might not, but I know that she was. Sitting near her on the bus was some sort of drug. My heart beat slower. Her legs and the colors she wore were things beyond the realm of vocabulary. One day, Jim said to me, "If the only way I could have sex with her was to fuck her until I died, I would do it." Hours, and high school hours at that, spent studying her had allowed my mind to process only one true and undeniable fact: Christine was beautiful.