stories for boys

I leave the party to walk this girl home. She is attractive, but I have no ulterior motives. She is wasted and had been flashing people. I feel bad for her. I know, somehow (and as sure as I am, I’m also sure I am wrong) that she will regret it all in the morning. Genuine regret. Regret enough so that she won’t want do it again. (I really don’t believe this — she will wake up in the morning and whine for a bit about how stupidly she acted. But it won’t be enough to stop her from doing it again in a couple of months. Or, more likely, next weekend. Tomorrow night. She is too needy to not.).