We were different, very different, so you might wonder, how did I, Genny Jensen, pure, innocent, smart, a nerd, end up between Cameron Howard’s tattooed fingers, ready to be corrupted?
The first time I saw him, my mind was too foggy with nervousness to analyze the impact his presence had on me. His dark eyes covered by strands of hair that looked too smooth for his own good, his eyebrows were pierced, so was his nose, and his ears. He embodied everything I disliked, perversity, corruption, carelessness. Maybe I was everything he disliked too, a nerd with constantly red cheeks and bitten lips, a mess of stuttered words and foggy glasses. While he had a cigarette between his lips and a Malboro pack in his back pocket, I had a pencil tucked behind my ear and a mini-bible in the pocket of my sweater. We were different, very different. Until we became the same.