Greg's mouth twitched as if he wanted to say something, but there were no words. The words had been said about this and Greg still needed time. It was the briefest of interludes and Seth ended it with a last peck bestowing his forgiveness, or perhaps he was just reaffirming his patience.Occasional touches as they moved down the hall reassured them both. Then they were out in the sun's harsh glare and they were just two teenagers walking down a dusty street in dying village full of faded dreams that never touched them. You would take them for friends because while they walked mostly apart, they had a tendency to pause along the way, the younger with his fists jammed deep into the pockets of his cargo shorts, smiling broadly at the more serious older youth. It seemed to make for a longer journey; however, the distance they needed to travel was really not that far. They had the time, and time held no consequence to the two companions, though the rumblings in their stomachs drove them. She told John briefly what had happened, and gave him directions. John drove to the restaurant, went inside, and spoke with the manager. John then took Angie out to his car. He put her in the front passenger seat, buckled her in, and went around to his side of the car. By the time he got in, Angie had unbuckled the belt, lifted up the armrest that he always used, and scooted over to the middle of the bench seat. He helped her to buckle in again, and began the drive to her apartment. She leaned on his shoulder as he drove. He put his arm around her, and held her close. She cried softly until she fell into a light sleep. Arriving at Angie’s apartment, John gently woke her up, and walked her to her door. He got her keys out of her purse, opened the door, and took her inside. He stopped a moment to close the door. John led Angie to the bedroom, and helped her to undress, leaving her in her underwear. He went to her dresser, opened a drawer, and took out one of the oversized T-shirts in.
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