Twenty One

“Do you like techno music?” her French accent always caught me off guard.

I hesitated, studying her face, her dark eyes, thin lips, looking for some sign of deceit.

“Uh, yeah,” I said, “I love it. Have done all my life.”

She smiled. “I have a ticket for a club in Barcelona when we get there. Do you want to go with me?”

I said I did, but I couldn’t shake the damage that I’d suffered recently. I couldn’t understand why this girl had taken an interest in me. This had to be a trap, some ...