Hush Hush

I inched backward, and Patch's black motorcycle came into view.

"Let me give you a ride" he offered.
"I'll walk."
"It's late, and dark"

He has a point. Whether or not I like it.
But inwardly, I was caught in a fierce game of tug-of-war. I'd been idiotic to walk home in the first place, and now I was stuck between two bad decisions: ride with Patch, or risk the chance there was someone worse out there.

"I'm starting to think the only reason you keep offering me a ride is because you know how much i dislike this thing" I blew out a jittery sigh, scrunched the helmet on, then swung on behind him. It wasn't entirely my fault that I was snuggled up close to him. The seat wasn't exactly spacious.

Patch made a low sound of amusement. "I can think of a couple other reasons"



Why can't life be like my books? In order. Sorted into chapters. You know how many pages you have left. And when the story gets boring you can skip ahead, skimming the pages until your eyes fall upon a single word and you know that the good bit is coming in 37 pages.