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Wild Night

He smiles at you again, and stands. You stand with him, gather your things, and follow him through the weekend bar crowds out into the street. Normally, you'd have some reservations about getting into the car of some blind date, but Jake looks harmless, if contemplative, even kind. He just thinks too much, you reason, as you wait for him to pull up in his car.

When he does, you gasp. Jake flips up the visor on his helmet, and smiles a sheepish little smile to you. "Hop on," he invites, and you grin as you do so. Jake is the owner of a badass-looking motorcycle, and the quiet thinker looks strangely appropriate on top of it.

"Hold on to me," he advises, and you do so, putting your arms around his waist. He starts it up with a blasting roar, and you're off, trying not to think of how you're a slight lean to the side away from a horrible, disfiguring crash. The ride is enjoyable, and the rush right at the beginning, tinged with fear, is palpable and fun while it lasts.

You don't stop by a liquor store, but you're so enjoying the ride that you barely even notice. The ride, however, is a bit short, and Jake pulls the bike up to a small, slightly deserted park. Massive pine trees ring it, and a few streetlights dot a winding brick pathway that leads between hedges into it. The top of a kid's playset, orange plastic slide included, peeks above the hedges, and the whole thing has a deserted, creepy, slightly romantic quality to it at night.

He parks, removes his helmet, and smiles at you. Where to?
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