"Ugh," someone suddenly uttered from behind him. Steve clutched the stone possessively and spun around. It was Nadine Ferguson, an uptight religious girl. She had a look of disgust on her face as she shook her head (as usual, her hair was pulled back into a tight bun). Her sleeved arms were crossed beneath her bosom (with Nadine's frumpy conservative clothes, it was hard to tell what size her breasts were). "You sicko," she said. "I saw what you and that tramp were doing."
"You were watching us?" he asked, amused. "Who's the sicko now?"
"That's not what I meant and you know it."
"So, what now? Are you gonna report me or something?"
"Actually, that's exactly what I'm going to do," she said, turning to walk away.
"Not if I can help it," he whispered to himself.
