He's a man, a real man. Maybe more than me. Maybe a lot more than me. I conform to my position. I like it, but I understand its cruelty and believe it...or not I get bothered from time to time.What am I saying? You know. You know my weakness. You are my weakness. I may have cried before, invisibly when my father died or holding back bravely when my body got battered and torn, but never in a woman's presence until you came along. It felt good. You felt good. Despite my cruelty, and you know it was. " Come on," said Myrtle. "Who gets who?"I practically ran to Frankie's chair. AS Frankie covered me with thecape I breathed a sigh of relief I was free of Ms. Gartman's questions-Shelly's grandmother didn't press me about my family on the way home. Wechatted about our new hair and nails. Frankie had done a killer job onme. She highlighted my hair just enough to bring out its natural colorthen painted my nails pearl white with violet tips to match my dress.This was the girliest I'd ever looked.I. More

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