April relented, holding his hand, not necessarily enjoying it. Once again she scanned the area as if she expected to be overtaken by some jilted lover. With his other hand, Parker wiped sweat from his brow. His brown hair was long, parted neatly down the center. One of his classmates once postulated that Parker must wake up around dawn to get his hair to stand so perfectly.

A tide of suspicion swept across his mind. He wondered if she might be a hooker. She certainly had the look of one—and the legs. A lecherous smile etched itself across Parker’s face; he could almost taste the possibilities.

“How far is your place?â€? She was tired of walking.

“Oh, not too far.â€? He informed her as he turned to open his apartment door. “Not too far at all.â€?

That’s when it happened.

She slapped him and screamed, “Help! He’s trying to force me into his apartment.”