He got a glimpse of her made up face from his seat, and her sunken, hopeless eyes didn't look alive, they merely looked at the world."Fuck it," Roland...said to himself, pulled his 2002 Accord up to the curb and got out.He walked to her, and it only got worse.She was white. Had dirty, greasy, sandy blonde hair that was slack and touched her shoulders. She was tan, probably from standing on this corner, or others like it, all summer long. She had on Walmart-cheap, dirty white shoes. And her empty. I believe I had said something along the lines of “Ew! Stop! You’re gross and sweaty!”, but was definitely thinking more along the lines of ‘Oh God, hold me tighter, that body…’ But anyway, this isn’t about the fantasies I’ve had about him. So here we were, sitting at a small round table in my favorite dance club. Me, my best friend Mag, my brother Gavin, and his best friend Jack. I may have been pleasantly surprised that he had come along, but was shocked when I saw that his fiancée wasn’t. More

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