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Not to sure." The words had started out slow and halting, but Diane was still listening carefully and showed no signs of fear or rejection. This was promising, and Cindy's uneasiness slowly faded. Diane sat up and took Cindy's hand. She brushed a lock of her short brown hair from in front of her eyes and put her hand on the side of her face. She felt Cindy tense up again and tried to reassure her. "Cindy sweetheart, I have wanted you as well. And I know you have never done this before, but hon, nothing is going to happen that you don't want to happen. We can stop at any time, all you have to do is just say the words." Pausing to assess the effect of her promise, she continued quietly. "I don't expect you to return anything if you don't want to. I just want to experience your body. To feel you- and to watch you cum." "O-ok, Cindy said with a deep sigh and a nod. It was all the encouragement that Diane needed. Cindy started trembling with nervous excitement. She was about to carry out. I explained to him that I'd started drifting into a small gang in the months since I'd left school, I hadn't liked it, and when they'd gotten violent with each other that'd driven me to leave LA. "Da LA cops said dat after I left, four of dem kilt each udder, and six are still missin'. I don' know nuttin' 'bout dat, but dey wanted my number so's dey could ask me more questions I don' know nuttin' 'bout. I said I'd give it to da cops wherever I settled. I gotta job now. I wanna find somewhere ta live and night classes or sumding. And learn to speak betta too, so I don' soun' like trash."I was polite - never once calling him a "motherfucking pig" - and sincere, so he eventually stopped showing so much suspicion. He called LA while I was there, not getting through to the person so he left a voicemail message identifying himself, me, and reading out the information on the note I'd given him.I got the LA cop's card back, "In case I need it agin'." I also promised to come back when I had my.
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He suddenly remembers his check and decides he doesn’t feel like walking back through the Mojave parking lot again. He can pick up the check some other time. Still, he feels like he is missing something, something he needed desperately but still cannot find. Slowly, the auto pilot kicks back in. Had anyone been near enough to see him they probably would have worried that maybe he was having a stroke or some kind of episode, for his entire face went slack and expressionless in a moment and his eyes, which normally carried within them a peculiar light that drew people to him like moths to a flames, became dead glass marbles. He swings the door of his car open, unknowingly nicking the car beside him, and slides down into the seat. His father had bought him this car and had worked many hours of overtime at the plant for the money to pay for it. Not that his father really worked for money. No, his father had worked to get away from the family that seemed to be a constant source of.

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