He would tell just as many wetback jokes as whitey jokes and pissed every one off. That was until you needed back up in the field. His nickname was th... Tasmanian devil. He was fucking fearless, dependable, and just too good at his job. It cost him his life. John absently scratched the side of his face, ignoring the long ugly scar. He felt the stiff paper in his pocket. He knew ever word on it. He just didn’t know why the hell he listened to his dead friend and was on this damned, hot,. I focused on Harry and the confidence his attention gave me. We danced for a few more songs, and then Harry suggested we grab some beers and head out into the hallway, where we could talk more easily. He took my hand to lead me through the tightly packed dancers who had grown in number without me noticing. In my inebriated state the touch of his flesh on mine, even in this innocent way, filled me with lust. When we got out into the hallway we sat on the floor, Harry close to me, our legs. More

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