Benedict Arnold

He looked at me. I wondered what he was offering with that glance. Somehow, it said so much more than the words he was speaking. His eyes were fraught with both promise and betrayal.

"I just want to try this one thing."

And he did. And I did. And we did.

My blood flowed like the red wine that I could see sparkling in the bowl of the glass on the table--no longer my friend, but a Benedict Arnold in liquid form.