Consenting

They’d let her in the bar and even served her a rum and coke. Smiling and satisfied, Foal stirred the ice with the plastic straw.

“I must’ve seen you here before. You look awful familiar.”

The man who sat down beside her was old enough to be another of her mom’s boyfriends. He wasn’t ugly.  Better looking than the boys in her class, anyway.

“Could be,” she said, pleased at his mistake.

“I knew it.”

After he’d bought them both another couple rounds, the man leaned in close, whispered something in her ear, and inched  his hand up her thigh.

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