I Won’t
DELILAH
I never thought I’d see him again. Hell, I thought I’d imagined we’d met.
The spring air that night was thick, almost sticky. Aunt Reba was gone—gambling what little money she had on her annual Atlantic City trip and Penelope was away at debate camp.
The summer was looming, close enough to taste. And on a empty, uneventful Saturday, I’d let my friend Carrie convince me that throwing a party was exactly what I should do—that a little beer, music and mayhem was normal for a couple of juniors on the brink of graduation, heading into their senior year with nothing to do but submit their college applications and wait.
I’d been good. Hell, I’d been angelic.
My grades were spotless, my school record clean. I hadn’t had a date since never, and I’d even helped my old blind Aun
