Read Meant To Be for Free Online Page A

was blazing, the flames dancing up toward the sky, while the rhythmic waves crashed on the beach behind him. He was lulled into relaxation by the sight and sound, and the rum he was steadily consuming.
    A girl sat down next to him, her butt thumping hard against the sand. He recognized her from school. Her name was Alana. She was on student council, very popular, always smiling. Her short blonde hair was a perfect bob that framed her small face. She looked like a very pretty pixie.
    “There’s no Coke left.” She giggled. “But there’s still rum.”
    She waved an open bottle in the air, sloshing a tiny bit that ran down her wrist.
    “Oops,” she said, licking it off then wiping the rest against her pink hooded sweatshirt. “Here.” She took Daniel’s Coke and poured rum both in and on it. She handed it to him, then clinked the bottle against it and said, “Cheers.” She took a swig.
    “Cheers,” Daniel said. The rum and coke had burned, but that was nothing compared to the sensation of the straight rum. He swallowed hard, almost choking, and shuddered. Alana giggled.
    “I know. It’s gross.” She wrinkled her dainty nose. “But a few more swallows and you won’t care anymore.”
    She took another swig. Daniel followed her lead and took a second mouthful. It wasn’t as bad as the first gulp.
    “You’re right.” He smiled. Her words had appealed to him on a different level. What he wanted more than anything was to not care anymore—for the hurting to stop. He drank again and felt less, of everything. By the time the can was empty he wasn’t feeling much of anything at all.
    “Let’s go for a walk,” Alana said, her hair brushing against his cheek.
    He turned toward her. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, his head spun as the flames flashed beside him. Her face was right in front of his, so close he could smell her. Her breath was a mixture of rum and cinnamon gum, sweet and appealing. On impulse, he leaned forward and kissed her.
    He’d never really kissed a girl before. Only once, at a party, and the girl had never spoken to him again. That was back in England, before his mother took ill. Since he’d moved to the States he’d felt too depressed, too shy, too out of synch to even gather up the courage to ask a girl out, let alone make a move on one. But here was Alana, her face next to his, her body leaning toward him, her eyes staring drunkenly into his, his nerves dampened by the rum.
    Her tongue darted into his mouth and licked alongside his. She pulled away then and took his hand. “Come on,” she said, dragging him up. “Let’s go for a walk.”
    They stumbled across the sand, weaving their way past the beach bags and coolers, and along the tall grass, behind the dunes. Alana led the way. He followed, his clouded brain only partly comprehended where they were headed, and why.
    As soon as they were behind the dunes, she stopped and turned toward him, her eyes gleaming in the bright moonlight. He kissed her again and she lifted herself onto her toes, rubbing against him. It felt amazing. His head was spinning from the booze, from the kiss, from the insane throbbing sensation that emanated from his jeans.
    They fell back against the sand and Alana reached toward Daniel’s pants. She unzipped him while they continued to kiss. His erection popped up into the circle of her thumb and fingers and she ran her hand down the length of him. Her skin was warm and silky smooth. He almost came from the single stroke, but then she let go. His dizzy, drunken mind struggled to keep pace with what was happening.
    He watched as she removed her sweatshirt and spread it on the sand. She scooted on top of it as she reached for Daniel’s hand.
    “Here,” she said, pressing something into his palm.
    It took a moment for him to process that it was a condom.
    “Oh.” He shook his head to clear it. “Okay.”
    He tried to rip open the package, but the rum had made his fingers clumsy and uncooperative