ath swarming me. “We can hang out.”
Saturday afternoon, we met at a park close to home. We walked up the hill to the benches surrounding the kids’ play area. A mother pushed her children on the swings.
Bobby turned to face me and kissed my cheek. I found his lips. The rest was his fingers in my hair and his hands on my thighs. Soon his hands were gently pulling at my t-shirt. He stopped kissing me and stood up.
“What?” I looked around to see what made him stop.
“Let’s go.”
I wanted to be alone with him, but did I want to be secluded? I heard Mom’s voice in my head: Don’t be alone with anyone you don’t trust. Do not let anyone take you from one place to another where you can be isolated. I knew I should make some excuse not to go, but I followed him to his house.
“Hello?” he called out, when he unlocked the front door. No answer. “We can watch some TV?”
We sat on the couch in the living room and he turned on the TV. Some soap opera was on, so it didn’t take long before we started making out again. His hand slipped under my shirt and I felt