October 22, 2014

Scott

Every year it was the same thing; Crystal’s mansion of a cabin out in the middle of nowhere. That’s what spring break meant since we were sixteen. Too loud music. Too much alcohol. Too many girls. It was perfect.

Was.

Now we were twenty and shit like that got old real quick.

My gaze moved to the front passengers seat of Brad’s car. Trent had turned around, facing me with his tongue out pretending to have his way with the seat. May...

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PO Box 153

Bayswater, VIC, 352

Australia

jay@jaymcleanauthor.com