She went to check on him, and she confirmed he was passed out on the couch. She then placed her finger to her lips and instructed me to be quiet; taking me by the hand we crept into the basement. It was finished as a TV room she said the k**s played their video games on the big screen TV but since they didn’t come over anymore it sat abandoned. As we sat on the couch we talked about more personal matters her eyes welled with tears a few times and then she’d smile telling me everything was going to be OK. I patted her hand and we made eye contact she came closer to me and we kissed briefly. It was just a touch. She said thanks and worried about me being tired. I reached across and kissed her again. Softly, tenderly she responded by placing her arms around my neck and fell back onto the couch. We made out like this for what seemed like hours kissing and fondling each other. My hands found their way into under her blouse and onto her bra. I rubbed her soft, small breasts. There I was, only a couple blocks away from home and there was no one I could call to bail me out. I couldn’t call Leah; she would just badger me for hours about being irresponsible and careless. I definitely couldn’t call my mother because she would be furious. For a second I thought I would just run, leave the car and pretend I had never drove it. Luckily I came to my senses, even in my drunk stupor, and realized it would be stupid to run. After several minutes of running ideas through my head, I finally swallowed my pride and marched myself home. As I looked back at the car, I could see the fluids leaking down the street as it sat there pathetically against the curb. I felt so stupid. This was so childish of me. I could see a teenager having this type of problem but I’d never expect someone my age finding his or her self tangled in such a web of misfortune. When I got inside, I noticed the lights were off and Craig had already gone to bed. I was relieved, because I knew I could.
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