'Some drunken adventure?' Oh God, did she know him. It was the kind of story that anyone who really knew Al could guess, because it had replayed itself at least twice since he had reached New York. Still, when the door opened and Noreen came in, Al looked a little nervous. He hadn't expected this - he should have, of course, but he wasn't the best when it came to thinking things through before he did them. Why yes, of course Noreen would see the entry; he'd only blocked the people he knew were a) underage or b) absolutely certain to be offended by it.
Oops. Ah, well. Too late now.
When Noreen entered, she'd find a chair already waiting for her. Al was seated too, bundled in an actual shirt and, what's more, a sweater over it. He'd pulled the sleeves down over his hands and his thumbs were making sharp impressions where they pressed into the wool
( ... )
Oh man, did she know him. Al put a hand to his forehead and slowly dragged his fingers down across his eyes. "Yeah, pretty much. If it helps, I really thought that she was... never mind, it won't help." Ugh. Al let his hand slide from his face, then slumped back in his chair. It wasn't exactly a slump of defeat, or the bad posture of a sulking man-cub, but he was clearly uncomfortable. It was there, ready to be read in the way he crossed his arms tightly over his chest.
"I kept a set of the photos from the party to remind me of the night. That's all. 'Cause she was a good girl. I liked her."
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Oops. Ah, well. Too late now.
When Noreen entered, she'd find a chair already waiting for her. Al was seated too, bundled in an actual shirt and, what's more, a sweater over it. He'd pulled the sleeves down over his hands and his thumbs were making sharp impressions where they pressed into the wool ( ... )
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"I kept a set of the photos from the party to remind me of the night. That's all. 'Cause she was a good girl. I liked her."
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( ... )
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