This is a teaser for my forthcoming short story 'The Itch': We stood, regarding each other for a second. It felt like longer. She looked me up and down, imperceptibly, nodding. Tying me to a chair with her eyes. A slight smile curved a porcelain face, cheekbones so sharp they nearly looked fake. But they weren’t. “Hey, Kath.” Monosyllables. Nausea. It’ll pass, it always did. “Shall we?” The cigarette end flew away, like I knew it would. Arms linked. First stop, Caddie’s. The affordable cocktail bar, where girls liked to imagine an extra zero on the price of the drinks and boys thanked God that there wasn’t. Kath said stupid things when she was drunk, and she didn’t even have to be drunk to start. I guess it was my fault. I encouraged her, just by being there. By being me. “You know, Adam,” She started, over a pitcher of screaming orgasm. “Its nights like these that make me feel alive.” “Mm-hm?” Not even words. I tried a real sentence. “I think they might be killing me.” Flippant smile from me, to underline the fact that I was trying not to sound serious. She laughed. The ice was broken, floating in the cocktail. It always took this long with Kath. A lot of guys told me that it was worth it. It probably was, if only- “Is that a new shirt? It looks nice.” “Oh, thank you,” I looked down at my shirt. “It’s not exactly new; I’ve just not worn it much.” “So now it’s special. It’s our your shirt.” Yes. It’s definitely about you. It’s just a goddamn shirt. Instead, I grin and say “Yeah.” Long and drawn out. "Yeeeaaahh." I’m scum, I know. If you like this, check out the first part on my MySpace: http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=79259105&blogID=442630205&Mytoken=D7398971-A6C0-4193-98A12D455DA5B2E581014538 The rest will be posted somewhere at a later date.