4

Miranda stared at the contents in her locker. She didn't want to face anyone, not now, not later. The books and papers piled messily across the metal panels. But that didn't matter. Nothing mattered now except now wrong everything went last night. And it all started out fine.

Miranda walked into the bar. She saw Adam there sitting alone, swinging on his bar stool. So she thought she'd ask him to buy her under aged ass a drink, or two, or twelve.

They both got drunk, really drunk. And that's when things got complicated.

Miranda walked into the washroom to wash up. She dizzily shut the door behind her and started to wash her hands. She heard a hard knocking on the door. Miranda swung the door inward and a pair of strong hands lifted her off her feet and pushed her against the wall. Firm lips crushed hers. She knew it was Adam, by the smell of gingersnaps that lingered on him, and the alcohol that she tasted in his breath. She didn't want to let go, but she felt guilt. But that small pang of guilt wasn't enough to pull her hands off his hard shoulders.

And she woke up next to him this morning.

The ring of the school bell brought her back to reality. Reluctantly, she closed the locker and turned the dial. Her knuckles turned white, she was gripping the locker door harder than she thought. With her eyes at the floor, she walked off to her next class.