Careless Whisper

James Stryker, the bad boy of our neighborhood, had a voice that could put babies to sleep. His name still punches me in the gut, along with the lie he tried to hide. I entrusted him with all my deepest, darkest secrets. I was positive that I knew all of his too...until the end of summer, in 1985. But I didn't. So what did I do? I bailed. Without another word to James, I left home and planned to stay away. But now I have to go back and face the boy who stole my heart, and never returned it, once again. And I just can't shake the gnarly feeling that the most careless whispers are the ones I haven't even heard yet.