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She smiled softly then stood up with me as the bell rang telling us we had 5 minutes to get to class. most the kids walked off going to class but me and Wendy stood there for what seemed like a life time to me then i snapped out of it when i heard "can i have my hands back" i looked down to see that both her tiny hands were being held in my right hand. I let go then watched her go to class, i walked off to class myself trying to push the thoughts of her face out of my mind and the second glance of her panties.The rest of the day went back to normal, dull... a few weeks went by and i didn't see Wendy again, i had learned later that she had just moved here and that was her first day and she instantly afraid of me like everyone else. I asked one of my few friends Kyle if he knew who she was or her classes and he told me he had P.E. with her and her name was Wendy. i followed him the next day to P.E. and saw her sitting on the bleachers alone in a slightly tight white t-shirt and very. He could hear her ask if he was alright over the heartbeat music. Some one brought a cup with steaming liquid. He smelled it. It was black, strong, bitter coffee that he sipped at slowly. She smiled gently at his expression and brushed over some sugar and cream thoughtfully so like her mother. First one packet, then two. He stirred itidly watching the dance floor slowly thin out at a slow dance. He lifted the hot cup to his lips and drank the entire contents of the cup in three swallows. Bitter coffee. That happened in the city when the pipes were old. Copper pipes. Sugar & cream on a table in a dance club. A slow movement caught his eye as he stared trying to fathom his fear in the empty cup on the table in front of him. She rewound the scarf from her throat as she sat, looking calmly at him and waiting. From her shoulder to the clavicle was a familiar looking scar. (‘Plastic surgery can correct that. But I’m afraid that in her mind, you will always be someone she hates. Only time.
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