Drunk Teen Sex -

"Like telling you that I’ve spent the last forty-five minutes watching you talk to a houseplant because I was too scared to come over here."

Maya’s heart did a slow, heavy roll in her chest. The buzz didn't disappear, but it shifted, turning from dizzy to electric. "It was a fern, Sam. And it’s a very good listener." drunk teen sex

Maya reached out, her hands finding the collar of his hoodie. The world was spinning, but Sam was the anchor. "You’re late," she breathed. "I’ve been waiting since ninth-grade biology." "Like telling you that I’ve spent the last

"You’re vibrating," Sam said, leaning against the dryer. He wasn't actually drunk, just buzzed enough to lose his usual armor of sarcasm. And it’s a very good listener

Maya sat on a washing machine, swinging her legs, her head feeling like it was packed with cotton candy. Across from her, holding a red plastic cup like it was a holy relic, was Sam. They had spent three years being "just friends"—the kind of friends who shared notes and made fun of each other's haircuts.