The bus window was frigid against Hannah’s forehead, but she couldn’t feel the cold. All the sixteen year-old felt was the weariness of loss in her limbs and the sharp shards of a broken heart digging holes of confusion and self-loathing into her chest. The music that was being piped…

“Hey. Vi. You wanna see my dick?” Violet blinked at her laptop screen, before looking up at Saul, standing before her. She was laying on her side, across the sofa. Mercifully, the open computer blocked her view of Saul from the chest down as he waggled his hips back and…