You search the party looking for Zoey. The two of you grew up together, and maybe she could hook you up with some bitty. You wander all around the place, and ask if anyone has seen her. Though you don't find her, you do see two passed out girls' panties, so the search isn't completely worthless. Well, if she isn't here, then you might as well sift through her bedroom.
You open on the door expecting to steal some of her sexy, worn clothes, but are surprised to see her there. She looks up from the keyboard, and says hi. You come up with some excuse, something lame, you were worried that you hadn't seen her or something. You mention date rape like it's a bad thing, and not your most successful way at meeting chicks. She says thanks, but she's just finishing the paper for Mr. Wilson's class. It's worth 40% of your grade, you know? No, you didn't.
After years of being misunderstood, I had hoped we finally had "our" story. I was wrong.
He had a yellow inflatable tube around his waist, the kind with a comical duck head. There was a tiny fish in one of his hands, and a trident in the other. In the background a squirrel wearing shades was water skiing.
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