He leans down, taking my legs out from underneath me, and lifts me into his arms. He kisses me while walking across the parking lot. I don’t tell him that I think he is nice. Tonight, this date, the book he got me, talking on the phone all night, taking care of me when I was sick. He’s shown me just how amazing he can be. But, right now, there isn’t anything nice about the way his mouth crushes mine or the bruising hold he has on my legs. And I like that too.
