"I'm sorry," I say out loud, in this woman's high, feminine voice, andthe fluttering stops for a moment. Is she listening? Taking my handaway, I try t... apologize, "I'll not do that again."It is a cheap promise. I might not touch her, but Scoldini's plan is tolet lots of other people do so."Try not to panic," I tell her. "You've been the victim of Transfer."That seems to be no reassurance, as the sensation returns immediately.The fluttering is too desperate to ignore, so in spite of my. At this point, I was glad I had gotten a ride there, because I was to drunk to even think about driving home. I don't remember who drove us home, but I do remember that it was a pick-up truck... Jason and I in the truck bed. We continued making out like the high school kids we were and enjoying the cold breeze on an extremely warm night. Once we got to my house, he and I were dropped off in my driveway and he asked me if I wanted to go to his house. I answered by sneaking in the house and. More

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