I had words with myself after camp and I’d continued to do so after my rendezvous with Emma in the garage. I’d told myself that it was just a phase that I’d grow out of, that I could stop if I was strong enough. All I had to do was just think about all those that would get hurt, all those I was responsible for, and I would be able to just stop things with Emma and go on with my life.
But I wasn’t strong. And I couldn’t stop.
After a hasty meeting at school the following Tuesday, I arrange to pick up Emma on a quiet street not too far from the gates to take a drive out of the town and towards the country. I’d expected her to go down on me as I drove, such was my thinking that all we would ever really do is be naughty together, but instead we have a pleasant conversation about her studies and what she was thinking of doing after. It’s perhaps the reminder I need that this young woman isn’t just someone for me to fuck, an escape from an increasingly mundane life, but something more.