The Bad Girl's a Virgin✓

"My God, Zoey! What happened!"

"Miss!"

"Miss!"

"Miss, hello!"

"Miss!"

"Miss!"

"Miss!"

I snapped out of trance state and my eyes finally shifting upward, tears falling from them. My mouth refused to opened to answer the person who was standing over me trying to get my attention.

"Miss are you okay? Can you tell me what happened here?" the man asks

With great difficulty I shook my head slightly to indicate no.

Another person behind the man came up behind him and patted him on the shoulder.

"She can't answer, she'd in shock, tend to the girl, I'll take care of her friend."

The other guy went over to help the paramedics, the man now standing over me looked at me worried. I glanced down at his belt for a split second and I caught site of a badge, he was definitely a cop and not just a bit cop, a detective and a very decorated one at that.

He stretched his hand out for me. My eyes shifted upward and the tears that had gathered in my eyes fell as my empty gaze met his. I sadly lifted my arm and rested my small palm in his large callused paw.

He contracted his arm, pulling me up from the floor, immediately the other cop wrapped me in a shock blanket.
I couldn't hold it anymore, the shock had dissolved and realization replaced it. The tears fell quicker and quicker until I burst into the tears. The detective held me and I cried. I cried in the strangers arms.

Minutes later, I was all out of tears, with a pounding headache, my eyes were burning, badly. It felt like there were being burned out of my sockets. I had to sit down because I felt extremely dizzy. We were downstairs in the living room Woah, that was swarmed with investigators etc.

"Woah there," the detective says," You've lost a lot of fluids, and vital minerals that your eye needs."

He signaled a paramedic that handed him a bottle of Apple juice. He then smiled at me full of concern.

"Here, drink this, you'll feel better eventually," he says handing me the bottle.

I took the girls from him, brushing his fingers feeling his callused fingers. It sent tingles down my spine, making me shake lightly like the air had suddenly gotten colder.

I placed the bottle's top to my mouth and slowly drank the cool liquid while secretly eyeing the detective. His hand was folded, while he was speaking to a crime scene investigator. The investigator left and his eyes met with mine as I swallowed.

"So, why did you come here?" he asks raising his hand up slightly in question.

"I-I r-eceived a-a texted from her," I stammer encasing the bottle with my fingers.

"And here were you before that?" he says raising a brow.

"The boardwalk," I state.

"Doing?" he urges.

"Just trying to relax, clearing my head. I had lunch, played some games in the arcade, then finally had some ice cream. . ." I trail off. "That's when I received the text. And it was a bit weird because she never texts on the weekend. So I figured it has to be and emergency."

"So you left the boardwalk, drive here and then what?" he asked trailing off into a whisper.

My eyes began to water as I realized I had to recount what I saw minutes earlier.