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It made me uncomfortable, like she was trying to poke holes in the facade of normalcy I had started to construct for myself.
He kissed me and I was awake. He kissed me and I was alive.
We identified with her, which should have made us kinder but instead made us mean. We felt more comfortable siding with guys like Doug because their side was safer.
They would never admit to wanting to fuck Monica even though they would, of course they would, but if they did it would be her fault and not theirs. Her desire made her unseemly.
