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Patiently we waited in the queue to enter the theatre. Julie was trying to remove the lipstick streaks from my face by using a wet tissue. She kept on repeatedly thanking me for the beautiful birthday surprise. That is when I felt someone patting me on the shoulder. I turned to see a tall, slim man. He seemed not more than thirty years old. He was well dressed, in a three-piece suit. His hair all greased back, like someone out of a gangster movie. I discovered a few months later that this mobsters name was Bobby. Next to Bobby stood a giant, A Goliath of a man, which I found out in time he was Bobby’s henchman.“I’ll give you £200?” Bobby said.“Not for sale,” I responded. Turning back to face the front, holding Julie by her hand, my fingers locked into hers.“I’ll give you £500?” he insisted.Turning, with force in my voice I replied, “Look the tickets are not for sale!” I stared into his eyes, attempting to make my point.He curled his lips into a grin. “I’m not talking about your. I felt her leg swing over mine, with her thigh squeezing mine as her knee slid between my legs. Do I just lie there and enjoy this? Do I respond in kind? Do I just fall back into the clutch of sleep? Or do I follow the lead of that one part of my body that was now fully awake and changing the shape of the boxers I had stripped down to before lying down? And then there was this one last question nagging me back to consciousness. ‘Who are you?’ I was a college freshman. I had no steady girlfriend, although I knew many girls and had my share of dates. So there was no one woman that had enough of a claim on me to walk into my room unexpected and just begin this very loving episode. Our class in my major was small and very tightly knit, so there was an excellent probability it was one of them. There was an air of familiarity to her, but I couldn’t place my finger on it. All I had heard of her voice was a whisper, and all I had seen of her was the shadow in the doorway. As her knee slid up.
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