.. wrong."He was pointing at his own reflection in the cracked mirror.I had no idea what to say to that, so I just held him, rocking him, andstroking ...is hair, like I had when he was a baby.He quieted, and I got him up, took him to his room, helped him undressand tucked him into bed. I looked around the room, and suddenlyrealized how atypical it was for a teen boy's room. In fact, it was likeit had no personality, nothing in it that said anything about theoccupant at all.I did something I. There were a few young men who were eager to partner with her if he wasn't available. She was waiting for her dad when one came up. I was behind her but she didn't know I was there. He talked to her a bit and she was polite but not encouraging.He said, "It looks like 'pretty boy' left you. I'd be glad to partner with you. You wouldn't find me leaving you."I could see a tear roll down the side of her cheek. She said slowly, "He's not a 'pretty boy.' He is the kindest, bravest, smartest man I. More

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