Trying to write, redux

Here's what I've got so far:

I could leave. I could walk away. I could flee and never look back, except I can’t because there’s Danny and he sees me. He waves like he’s a puppet with someone jerking his arm back and forth, smiles as if someone drew it in. He’s so clearly not down with this. I guess it’s one thing to make out with the help in the lobby, but another to invite her into your cabin.