I remember the way his friends laughed at me, the remark the woman made about me being retarded. I flush just thinking what they’d say if they saw us now, me in his car, his hand on my leg and inching closer to the erection aching at my crotch. I wonder what she’d have to say to that.
* * * *
Kevin stopped to get the sandwiches before he came for me. Now he drives to a quiet spot off the main turnpike, just a mile or two away from the strip malls and the cars and the businesses, but it’s in the woods and as secluded as we can get in the city. It seems as if no one else knows about the place because we’re the only ones here.
He parks on the shoulder of the road and takes my hand as he leads me through tall sycamores that rustle in the scant summer breeze as we pass. There’s a small creek
