Careless Whisper

James Stryker, the bad boy of our neighborhood, had a voice that could put babies to sleep. His name still punches me in the gut, along with the lie he tried to hide. James told me he would protect me forever and I entrusted him with all my deepest, darkest secrets. I was positive that I knew all of his too�until the end of summer, in 1985. What I found out ruined me. I could only imagine the gossip. So what did I do? I bailed. Without another word to James, I left home and planned to never, ever return. I vowed that I�d never have to face James Stryker again. Seven years later, one simple phone call from home changes everything, and threatens to silence all the promises I�ve whispered to myself. Most of all, I can�t shake the gnarly feeling that the most careless whispers are the ones I haven�t even heard yet. **