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Annie harrumphed. I don’t believe this.“I don’t believe it either,” Denise said, sitting back.“I am such a wuss.”She sat there five minutes, lower lip stuck out, staringat the empty screen. Then she thought: If she suspected acamera, why didn’t she stop?Duh! Annie said. I tried to tell you!Denise sat up, ramrod straight. “Are you saying–” shesaid, aloud.That she was looking for you? Well, finally!Denise shook her head. “I can’t believe that! After sheblew me off?”Patiently, Annie explained: D-i-s-c-r…“-estion!” Denise finished. “Of course!” Then she becameindignant. “But why with her! That stupid little twit!I’m not a stupid little twit!”Brainless little twit, Annie corrected.“Whatever!” Denise exclaimed. She switched back on thefeed.Downstairs, Jane was sitting in a swivel chair, andKristen was between her legs. This gave Denise an evennastier. Why?" I responded."You up for some company?"Valerie questioned in a voice like silk.My heart began to beat faster as she spoke."What time?" was all I could respond."Now, both your parents work on Monday? What time are they gone?" she continued."They leave before eight," I informed her."Good, Then I will see you around nine. Make sure the garage is open," she responded before the line went dead.I was out of bed and redressed in the blink of an eye. I then began the task of making my room presentable to visitors. As I worked I thought about Valerie and it seemed to quicken my pace. Sunday seemed to drag on forever but finally passed, and before I knew it Monday had arrived.As usual, I had breakfast with my parents and they seemed to linger longer than normal over their coffee and morning paper. Finally, they were heading out the door for work amid goodbye hugs and kisses to each other and me. I made a beeline to the shower and made sure every inch of me was cleanI splashed on some.
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It was rocky, our relationship. We had extreme highs and lows, fighting almost daily. She would flirt with other boys just to tease me, and she began to hold back her affection to control me. It worked. I pined after her, chased her, I was wrapped around her little finger. Rachel would tell me what to do, how to think and how I should feel. And I did anything to make her happy. The only class we had together was choir, and Rachel sang like an angel. She had a cherub face and her cheeks were always rosy. Her lips were round and full, and when she opened her mouth to sing, every boy around her stared at her with lust. Rachel would look into my eyes and bat her long lashes and my heart would melt. She led, and I chased, always trying to get past second base, but never succeeding. I was her plaything. During passing time we would hang out at her locker, and she would tease me by looking at other boys as they passed. She enjoyed flaunting her looks, and the attention she.

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