Re: [nye party quicklog]
Barely a difference. [He said it with a shit-eating grin, one that said he was perfectly aware that it explained why they didn't know each other from school. Four years of difference meant he was just getting to high school when she was getting out. That kind of age difference was some majorly significant gappage in the teenage world, but it didn't matter now.] I hated books. Con was always smart. I barely graduated. Don't hold that against me, babe. [He wondered why she was still in this town, if she was so eager to find a boy to drive her away in his pickup. But the clock started counting down, and he pocketed the question. It would give him an excuse to reach out later, and he was proud of his wiley-dude ways.
The kiss, man, the kiss.
She pulled herself closer, and he moved his hands to her ass. Holding her there, copping a feel, probably a little of both. He sunk lower in the recliner, and her weight felt better than the New Year did, which was saying something, because Patrick had some high hopes for 2017. She leaned, and the slant of his mouth became more intense, the kiss deeper, and one of his hands slid up along her back to keep her pressed close.
It was probably good she started to pull back when she did, because he noticed that fingertip against beanie, and yo! Abort! But she drew back, and the threat was gone with her movement.
She climbed, and he knew she was going to depart. Patrick, he liked clean getaways too. Since the summer at the lookout, he insisted on clean getaways, even when the chick in question had a smile like blinding.] Happy 2017, Destiny.
[He stood once she did. No expectations, and he didn't even try for a parting kiss. Instead, he looked down at the pig.] Sorry, buddy. Better luck next year. [Destiny got a wink, and then Patrick made his unhurried way back out onto the sidewalk.]