Despite the perpetual screaming and sound of oozing blood and guts being emitted from the speaker, the spectacle of Evil Twin 4 did nothing to distract the two teens from the contrastingly thick silence that hung in the air between them.

Shifting uncomfortably, Arnold moved to roll down the Packard's window in the hope that some fresh air would alleviate his overheated flesh and clear his mind. However, his attempts were in vain. As with many nights in mid-summer, the absence of the sun did nothing to quell the stifling heat. Furthermore, on this night there were no cool breezes to relieve the locals and the humid air was dense with moisture, seemingly charged with energy, something almost static- like the eerie stillness in the air before a storm.

Realizing there was no escape, Arnold resigned any attempts to cool off and instead decided to give his scalp some momentary relief as he removed his well worn light blue baseball cap, pausing briefly to ruffle his fingers through his unruly damp blond hair before placing it backwards on his head.

Shifting uncomfortably once again, he leaned forward and unstuck himself from the back of the Packard's leather seat to which the sweat on his back had sealed him, readjusted, and crossed his arms. As with the heat, he found himself similarly unable to escape his own thoughts- thoughts which had recently taken on a more, how should he say- primal nature? Sure like any other red-blooded young man adolescent stirrings were nothing new to him, but…

Involuntarily, Arnold snuck a glance at the source of his heated musings. She sat, slumped on the passenger's side of the bench seat with her long, slim bare legs resting nonchalantly atop the dashboard. Like her legs, her arms were crossed and her big blue eyes were focused on the screen. One of her dark brows was arched critically and her lips were twisted into a supercilious smirk as she casually chewed her gum, silently mocking the film as it played.

However, little did Arnold know, that beneath this cool, collected façade a frantic heart was rapidly pounding, as if trying to burst from the cage of ribs that had so long muffled it's cries.

Unable alter his gaze, Arnold focused in on the thin golden hairs located about her ears and at the base of her scalp. The humidity had teased the normally relaxed young strands into damp curls, a few, he noticed had plastered themselves to her moist skin. Swallowing, Arnold directed his eyes to the delicate angles of her collarblone, which, he now noticed was decorated with tiny, almost invisible beads of moisture. For a moment he sat transfixed by them, watching as they glistened dully the flickering light emitted off the screen. However, he was jarred from their lazy stagnation as one loosened it itself, descending down her chest and into the dark recesses of the flesh concealed beneath her pink tank top, leaving a trail of moisture in its wake. Arnold started to blush and in spite of himself and his eyes followed that tantalizing drop until they came to rest on the plump curves that had not graced her form six years ago. Arnold found himself recalling the hug she had given him when he first got off the plane. The way her soft breasts had felt pressed flush against his own harder chest, their hearts beating against one another. Arnold looked away, attempting to collect himself as his cock twitched at the memory,

In his mind a battle was waging. It would be irresponsible to make a move no matter what he was feeling. He didn't know how long he was going to be in town for and starting up something would just complicate things. She wasn't just some girl he could hook up with for one night and never see again, it was HER. A girl who, despite the fact of his absence for the past six years, had always been a large presence in his life, even before their sweet little 6th grade romance, and had since, through correspondence and such, become one of his best friends. In addition, despite the fact that they were older now and he was bigger than her, he was still a little weary of those legendary fists of fury and didn't doubt her ability to beat him to a pulp.

But then again maybe she wouldn't be opposed to such an idea. After all it was her who had spent her childhood in a lovesick haze over him. And who did she think she was anyway, showing up in an outfit like that! Sure it wasn't particularly showy or anything. She was dressed simply in a pink tank and short denim cut off shorts. But, the top flattered her subtle curves and the sun kissed goldenness of her shoulders and those shorts… oh sweet Jesus, would he ever be able to get the image out of his head? The way they hugged her tight little… how they showcased those long slim legs, making it too easy for him to think about how they might look wrapped around his waist…

Suddenly Arnold's reverie was interrupted by the sound of a high-pitched scream from within the car, followed by the collision of a warm body into his own. She had jumped across the seat into his waiting arms, promptly burying her face in his neck. Apparently, her girlhood habit of hopping into the sanctuary of his arms in quick, thoughtless moments of panic had never left her, nor indeed had his sweet willingness to hold her tight.

Arnold was struggling to keep his breathing at an inaudible level. The last thing he wanted her to consider him was a creep. But the FEEL of her warm form, so pliable and soft, those tantalizing breasts flush against him, and the humid puffs of air being rapidly emitted from the sweet orfice of her mouth onto the damp skin of his neck all conspired to send a titillating chill down his over-heated spine.

For a several moments, he couldn't even think. His head was spinning and he could do nothing but bask in the sensation. Never in his whole life had he felt like this. EVER.

Trying to clear his head, Arnold willed himself to take a deep breath, but due to the erratic pounding of his heart, it came out shakily. He feared that if one of them didn't extricate themself soon, the sweet aching between his legs would overpower his mind and he wouldn't be able to control himself or she would notice the subtle bulge in his pants and run from the car, screaming about what a sick pervert he was as she went. Turning towards her he used the arm that was around her shoulders to gently pull her from the crook of his neck so he could see her face.

"Helga…"

When she looked up at him, he felt his breath leave him for the first time that night. For a moment, his mind went blank. He felt as through he has lost his ability to speak and could do nothing but stare down into her wide blue eyes which were waiting for him to continue. Clearing his throat, he did.

"…it-its just a movie, "

But it wasn't just a movie. In fact it had nothing to do with the movie and they knew it.