Warren had a certain way about him that left me nervous to both speak and remain silent. I wanted him to see me next to him as being mature and collected-much like he was, but my skin burned for his touch again, which left me shifting in my seat, fighting against what began to grow within me as an unquenchable fire that was taking over me more and more with each passing second. Relief would come when the car would stop at the sight of a club called “Code”, which had been marked by a blinding sign colored a neon blue. The line for the establishment was lengthy and made up of patient twenty and thirty somethings at the mercy of a bouncer with an electronic tablet speaking names of those upon an elusive list.
“They won’t let me in...I’m not twenty one…” I reminded him as he tried for the do
