Sloane
Naco, Arizona is a tiny border town past Sierra Vista. I get there before sunset and text Jorge.
He doesn’t answer right away, which makes me nervous as hell. I am so out of my element here, it’s not even funny. I end up parking behind a school and scrunching down in the seat to browse my i********:.
It’s full of photos from Homecoming—Cave Hills kids looking glamorous as they play dress up. I’m tagged in a bunch.
There’s one of Bo and I that makes my heart double-pump. We’re on the dance floor and his arm around my back. He’s smiling down at me with this indulgent sort of amusement.
Because that’s when we were playing games.
I was horning him up rubbing my body all over his. Clearly he was enjoying it but had himself under control.
I’m not sure I’ve ever met a guy like him.
