The Old Promise of Passing Years, Sought No More

The day I recovered from anorexia, Juliana Pruitt handed me a hotel key card. "Austin Vance, it took me three years to nurse you back to health." "Tonight, I want you for real." I went to meet her, full of hope. I pushed open the door, and a two-hundred-pound woman threw herself at me and slammed me to the floor. "Quit playing innocent. We've been chatting online for three months. Didn't you say we'd sleep together once we met in person?"