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Then she asked me where is ur progress card i was little bit afraid because i got very less marks in maths i sowed to her and she beated me and said me if u r like this defintly u may fail in final exams AND now i asked her that i dont consentrate on my studies because of some problemes and she gave some problems to me nad go for botthing and asked to sole them and so me after my bothing and then she went for bothing after few mits she came back and asked me where the problems and i so her empty page and she was anger on me what is the problem to u she asked me i said u .she asked me what me ..then i saidwith out fear yes u then she asked me what is it i said i was not consentrart on my studies because i want to see u in nude then she just anger on me nad went back to romm after few min she came back that time i was afried if she tells my parents they killed me then so she came back and asked me do no behave like that and i was cried and my life is spoiled by u if u are not agreed. We did not speak. We did not write to each other. We had not seen each other since our high school graduation. Until tonight, one year later. All of a sudden, the restaurant is empty. It is only me, and it is only him. A thick counter stands between us. This does not stop me from crawling over to him. I am standing in front of him, there is nothing in between us. We look into each others’ eyes for about a minute, not knowing what to do, or what to say. I do what my primal instincts tell me to do: I kiss him, as I kissed him many times before. ‘What can I get for you today?’ he says, standing at the cash register. His coworkers move furiously around him, and a long line of people behind me wait impatiently. We are alone again. We continue to kiss, to stroke, to pet each others’ upper body regions. He is rubbing my breasts, and I lightly run my fingers upon his rock hard stomach. I untuck his clean shirt, remove it from his body, and throw it upon the stove. It begins to burn, but I do.
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