She would tell me how good she felt. She would tell me how hard her nipples were getting as she squeezed and pinched them. Caressing herself. Then...there would be a long period of silence. A hand would slowly slide down to her waistband. I imagined hearing the bottom being unhooked and hearing the sound a zipper being lowered. I would then hear a slight gasp, as the pressure of her shorts was eased. I could see her lightly running her hand over her red panties. Feeling lower and . Needless to say, I told him nothing that day. But as I lay in bed that night, I told myself that he would be over her in a few days, maybe even a week or two. I was wrong. After about a year of them dating, I got over my love for Jaren and fell in love with a new guy. Tommy Fenner, was just as cute if not cuter than Jaren. (Or at least that’s what I told myself to numb the pain of heartbreak.) We had sex, and told each other we were going to be together forever. Things between me and Jaren. It wasn't a silencer that was for small caliber guns with low velocities. They made a dull pop sound.My rifle was noisier, but still very hard to hear at the distances it was designed to kill.The rifle had a published range of 800 meters. But I was very good and managed to stretch out the range to 1000 meters. That's right, about 10 football fields.I could kill at that range very efficiently.The Army had trained me as well as possible while I was stationed in the good old USA. Then they shipped. There was Johnny, Keith Norwickie, Karl ‘Krazy Karl ‘ KInchie (sometimes just Kraz), Karl’s brother Joey, Johnny’s brother Bobby (a year younger than me), and myself. I remember building tree forts together, and climbing trees to put up swings, and stealing fruit from the trees of the wealthy in the neighborhood on the other side of Bullen’s Lane across from the project. I remember throwing the fruit at the cars on Bullen’s Lane and the day we hit the car with the 4 teenagers who stopped.