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though she knew that nobody could catch her, she felt a rush of excitement at the prospect of somebody turning and saying, “Hey, what the hell are you doing here?”
    The light was coming from a bathroom. She opened the door and saw a guy a little older than her, maybe twenty or twenty-one.  He had long, greasy hair, and he stood naked in front of the sink.  He had one hand on his fully erect cock.  He seemed to be watching himself in the mirror.
    She wanted to leave but couldn’t.  She stared at the guy.  He was standing with his feet spread apart, gritting his teeth.  He needed a shave, but she only barely noticed that.  She reached out, moved his hand away, and put her own hand on him.  She felt warmth and wetness.  There was a tube of lotion on the counter.  She had never touched a man before, and she wanted to know what it felt like.
    Karen had turned eighteen the month before with little fanfare and had never been close to having a serious boyfriend.  She sometimes fantasized about being with somebody who would make love to her and give her the kind of pleasure she only ever felt from herself.
    She touched the skin of his penis and rubbed it a bit, but as she did so, an image formed in her mind … her friend, Bonnie MacDonald masturbating.  She had wanted to catch her again but even though she’d snuck into Bonnie’s room several times, she’d never had any luck.
    Karen replaced the guy’s hand and left, but she left the bathroom door open.  That’d give the guy a bit of a shock.
    She walked over to the Starbucks.  It was closed but she stared in the window, knowing there’d be nothing much to see.
    “You don’t seem much like a coffee drinker.”
    Karen saw his reflection in the plate glass window, and of course she immediately recognized his voice.
    “I suppose you drink coffee all the time,” she said.
    “I do, but that’s because I’m much more mature than you are.”
    She turned and faced Bobby Jersey.  In the year since she’d seen him, he’d grown bigger, filling out.  She knew that some girls at her school would consider him quite handsome.
    But he scared her.  Not a lot, but a little.
    “You’re the same age as me, remember?”
    “Oh, I remember.”
    “Hey,” she said.  “What are you doing here?  You don’t live near here.  Do you?”
    “I was looking for you.  I want you to show me where you live.”
    “Why?”
    He didn’t answer right away.  He just looked at her with the bright eyes that she remembered from the times they’d met at the beach.  After a minute, he smiled and said, “We’re normally on different schedules.  Sometimes time stops for both of us simultaneously, like now, but sometimes it’s just me or just you.”
    “I know.  So?”
    “So, I thought I could come and visit you when time stops and you’re frozen there, ready for me to do whatever I want to you.”
    Karen wanted to laugh, hoping it was just a joke.  He was smiling and he made it sound light, like he was poking fun at her.
    But … why was he here?  Why did he want to know where she lived?
    “You tell me where you live,” she said.  “What’s your address?”
    “16 Sunnyside Lane.”
    He’d answered too fast. She knew he was lying.
    She wanted to run away but couldn’t.  He was her only link to whatever power they shared.
    He leaned over and kissed her on the mouth.  His tongue pushed into her, and she couldn’t help responding.  She put one hand on the back of his head to pull him closer.
    Then he pushed one hand roughly up her shirt and pushed her bra off one breast, grabbing her and holding her tightly.
    “Stop!”
    He didn’t let her go, squeezing her breast again, laughing.
    Then he let her go but he grabbed one wrist, stopping her from running.
    Fear pulsed through her. She used her free hand to put her bra back.  She wanted to get away, to scream for help that couldn’t possibly come, to kick him in the balls, to slap him, to yell at him for doing