We popped open a bottle of cheap wine, intertwined our arms, and toasted ourselves.“Baby...” I whispered. Outside, the night drew down ... the sky...darkened, and birds chattered. I held her, and her scent filled my nose. I touched her neck with my lips. “Baby, I love you...”“I love you, darlin’,” she said, holding me back. “Gracie ... you have lotsa boyfriends, back in the states?”I wondered why she cared. Was she just making conversation? That part of my life was over, over and gone. I no. She would tell me early in the night what she wanted done to her…if she would sit on my lap in our booth at the back of the bar guiding my dick into her pussy, on the hood of a car in the parking lot, against the wall in the men’s room, the list went on and on the more she would drink. I got to where nothing she said would surprise me, till the night came when she said she was going to drink until she passed-out and wanted be fucked and told about it later. This became her favorite activity. She wanted to know what made him tick, what had made him the way he was.Lizzie was just so unapologetically herself that he forgot to care that she wasn’t alive — because to him, she was alive. He’d never known anyone more alive than she was.She was like breathing, right there with him even when he didn’t notice, present even when he wasn’t paying attention, even when he wasn’t looking at her—and he did like looking at her. He tried to be discreet about it, but he suspected that she knew. I was sitting next to Lauren and we started a conversation about small stuff, however, it eventually got around to sex, like all teenagers, its our favorite topic. Her eyes roamed from my eyes to my lips for a good five minutes, I guess our conversation was going smoothly enough because she put her legs over my left leg and scooted closer and closer over a period of time. I pretended like I didnt notice and continued on with my witty comments, making her laugh and hit my arm occasionally, until.