"Maybe I should just burn the fucking house down", she thought as she climbed onto her bike and peddled down the moonlit street listening to the music...of some southern rock band that blared from down the street.Emmett Johnson was an enigma to the small beachside community of Ormond By The Sea. Rumor had it that he came from a wealthy family from New York, but you couldn't tell by looking at him. Disheveled, fat and perpetually drunk, it was hard to see where he's ever served as anything more. There were sweat marks on her breasts and my young mind was trying to capture every detail I could of her body. I couldn’t get over the fact of how fair she was compared to me, I kept looking at my arm next to hers, and then the smell. Dear God she smelled great, I had never really focused on how a woman smells like before, but with her sitting so close to me, I couldn’t help getting a little intoxicated by her smell.I started to get conscious of the fact that I might now be staring too much. More

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