Defeated, I stopped fighting, I cried to myself and felt the hands soften and someone was holding me close to them. Stroking my hair, telling me thing... were going to be ok. When I finally opened my eyes, the smart man was holding me tight. There was no roughness about him, everything he did was gentle, and he smelt good. The smell of whiskey vanished. This helped my fear disappear slightly. He moved back, careful not to let go of me. I looked around, my nurse was stood beside me holding my hand. An entire week, or maybe more, of hanging out somewhere cool with your friends, normally getting absolutely trashed and meeting other high school seniors from around the country. Sometimes meeting them a little more intimately than just a little friendship. And in this school especially, if you were discovered to not be planning any kind of senior week at all, you became the laughing stock of the entire student body. And so, our group of nerds that rarely talked to anyone outside of their group. More

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