I walked.

This wasn’t new; I often took long walks deep into the night. And yes, sometimes I wore just a bathrobe and sweatpants. Sure, sometimes I’d nurse a bottle.

Rarely, though, would it be both. What other choice do you have, really, after you spend two furious hours breaking up with your girlfriend?

So I walked. On a better night I’d be out with friends, or staying in and watching a movie with… well, I wouldn’t be doing that anymore. I wasn’t really into the “party” scene, preferring one-on-one interaction. Call me old fashioned, but I didn’t like hitting on girls when I had to scream to be heard.

As I walked, I passed up the opportunity. Some cheerleader girl from school had won some cheerleading thing at school, and was celebrating with one of those no-holds-barred, shows-up-on-COPS-and-Girls Gone Wild type parties. From a block away I could hear the music. From half a block, the rabid sounds of drunken teenagers.

And I walked right past. Or I would have, had I not seen her sitting on the curb.

Sonja… something or other, I dunno. Slavic, so there were some silent ‘g’s and ‘z’s. I had shared some classes with her, and we had talked a little. Mostly, though, our relationship was based off of me catching glances and her pretending not to notice.

How could I resist looking? 16 and already DD’s, with honey colored skin and dark red hair. Shorter than me, 5’6” or so to my 6’2”, toned stomach, and an amazing ass. Really, though, it was the tits that did it for me. Larger than my hand and immune to gravity, they stood as monuments to the body of the adolescent girl.

I couldn’t see them at the moment, though. She had folded herself up at the curb, staring through her cigarette smoke to the houses opposite. She looked lonely and cold, dressed only in a halter-top and some track pants. I staggered over and sat heavily down next to her.

“Boring party, right? I don’t know anyone.” Her voice was bitter, but deep and sultry. You could tell she was a smoker as soon as she spoke.

“Meh, I wouldn’t know.