Breakaway

Damn you, Liam MacArthur.

My vision has adjusted to the darkness, and I can see his face more clearly now. He's frozen in place, dark eyes intent.

"If you won't go out with me," he says, "don't go out with anybody else. Okay?" He grabs my hand and squeezes it. His palm is calloused.

"Look, it's not you that's the problem." I try to take my hand back, but he threads his fingers through mine. "It's me."

He steps closer. "How about I kiss you? That should convince me it's not going to work."

"You'...