The Contract
"You don't seem like the type to trap girls with contracts." I rest my head on his shoulder. He kisses the top of my head. I lay there, thinking about tonight. The silence, the contract, the nickname, the possessions I now have. My mind wants me to care, to storm out of here, ripping up the contract on my way out. But I don't. As long as I have Austin, nothing else seems to matter.