December 1, 2007
I was walking to my car at the parking lot near my school when I heard someone calling my name. I looked around saw my pretty classmate calling me. I approached her and realized that she was drinking along with some girls and guys. The thing was, she was the only one who was drunk and I thought then that the guys she was with were up to something. So after a few minutes of negotiation and a very hot argument with the guys (which nearly broke out into a fight), I was finally able to take her away. I would have wanted to drive her home but she was dead-drunk and I couldn’t ask her where she lived, so I decided I would take her to my house instead—with good intentions, of course. We arrived. I dragged her to my room, even asked my sister to clean her up. I had planned to check her phone to see if I can find out where she lived but the thought of taking her home in the state she was in made me change my mind.
I went back to my room to check up on her. She was so drunk that I barely understood what she was murmuring. I was about to say goodnight when she suddenly kissed me. What could I do? I was turned on so I did a very lame act of kissing back. We went torrid for a while when I suddenly tasted something different but quite familiar in my mouth. Before I could react she lost it and vomited right into my mouth. My mouth! The taste was damnably, horribly disgusting. So much for being the Good Samaritan, so much for being a gentleman, I swear I won’t have anything to do with drunken girls ever again.
The Good Samaritan, by email
Illustration by Mikke Gallardo
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