It strikes me then, in the deepest caverns of my heart, that Dutch Cross doesn’t just want to screw me. He genuinely wants to know me. I didn’t believe it before. Who would? The most powerful guy on campus… drawn to me? Ridiculous. And yet I’m starting to think that I can trust him. I offered my body up on a platter, and it didn’t mean as much as a simple phone call. An invitation into my life. A promise to share my thoughts, my burdens, my words.
