I convinced myself I had actually done it, but that didn’t make it so. What other reason could there be for Jeff showing up so late? Traffic? Car tr...uble? At 4:35 my father stopped by. ‘Where the hell is he? I told you he was not right. Still think he’s coming?’ My dad was being as supportive as he always had. ‘Would you please get out of here? I’m nervous enough as it is.’ I was amazed at how pleasant I sounded. I had shown impressive control. I wanted to end the sentence with ‘asshole’ and. He was sure there were not. On a one to ten scale, Vixen was an eleven or twelve. “You know what they want.” Vixen gave him a few eyelash blinks, her coy look. He nodded, and then shook his head, dispelling the image of some big football player rutting between Vixen’s long legs, her red hair swishing from side to side, her wonderful breasts jumping to and fro, hell of an image. “Well,” she said, “this is kind of embarrassing, well, I mean, the boys, they don’t, I guess you’d say, they don’t. More

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