The Luna Choosing Game by Jane Above Story

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Terry slowly trailed his hand up the length of my thigh. He stopped at the meatiest point, just beneath my hip and squeezed.

I wanted to bolt from the table. I wanted to elbow him in the ribs or kick at his shins.

All I could actually do was sit very still and try not to draw attention from the cameras or the guests, while simultaneously trying to only get Julian to notice.

However, every time Julian glanced at me, his attention was immediately claimed again by Joyce sitting beside me. It was strange to hear him talk so much, especially when the topics. seemed to be entirely superfluous.

“Did you watch that television show the other night?” Joyce asked.

“I don’t watch a lot of TV,” Julian replied.

“It was such a good episode.”

Julian nodded, and glanced back at me.

I widened my eyes.

“Did you hear what happened to Aunt Ruby?” Joyce said.

Julian’s eyes went to Joyce again. “No, what?”

“She bought another dog.”

Julian huffed a laugh. “Don’t word it like that, then, Joyce. You made it sound like it was something serious.”

“A new dog is a serious commitment,” Joyce said.

“Yeah, but…”

argument progressed, Julian totally focused on proving Joyce wrong, that he did not look at me again for a long moment. When he did, it was only for a second, before returning his gaze to Joyce, as he

my thigh, back and forth. His fingers were moving gradually toward

but he simply moved his hand right along with me, keeping it affixed to my leg like he had glued it

he had coaxed his hand between my thighs, undoubtedly wrinkling my dress. Though my dress was the very last of my worries at the moment, because ever

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of the meat and

taste.

froze. It eat something off of his fork felt overly intimate. It had even garnered the attention of several nearby candidates and the cameras. The

slap in the face. I might as well show myself out now for how much standing I would lose, being rude

the host.

my stomach, ignoring the way disgust

forward, closed my eyes, and accepted the

a good girl,” Terry said, and I wanted to spit the food

a glass

eyes shot

so tightly it shattered.

the display and made no attempts to hide it. “You should

at Julian, who

glass shards and replaced the broken cup with a

one.

at me. He leaned in and whispered,

on my upper

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by his wrist, but that only made him grab me

trapped, a cornered animal with nowhere to