W.O.A. - Chapter Two
Three girls, one tent, and the first cracks in everything they thought they knew about want.
Breakfast was shy. A little awkward and draped in that silence only strangers who got too wet, too deep, and too honest can wear in the morning. The air was damp with the faint smell of rubber from tired crotches. Nothing coffee couldn’t solve, nothing beer couldn’t salvage. Or so they prayed. Øystein couldn’t hide behind beer, still the designated driver, still sober, still pretending he really hadn’t done the redhead. T...
