“I’m sorry,” I whispered, ashamed and yet enjoying the touch of her soft hair, the pressure of her body against mine.Emily chuckled. “You’re...a guy. Girls know you can’t help yourself.” But she did no move away but continued to press herself against me, body swaying to the music. My skin tingled from the delicious friction. On a whim I relaxed and let myself press against her, daring for a moment to dream that she felt as me. My best friend was next to me, so beautiful and feminine. As we danced. He was mildly agitated about a report on small business regulation. He read until he came to a word in the article that made him stop."What is that word?" he asked irritably, squinting at the page. "Why do they have to use words this long in newspapers?" Ask Speedy," Mom said. So he handed me the paper and pointed at the word. "What's that word say?" he asked me.Chewing oatmeal, I glanced at the word quickly and announced, "Antidisestablishmentarianism."He sat back in amazement. "Well, damn,". More

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