We were at the lockers after hockey practice one afternoon and I was collecting my stuff, to take home for the weekend. She looked at me and smiled sw...etly. She was so cute, with her jet black hair and those big brown eyes. I’m no anthropologist, but I kind of thought she was Chinese or something - but not quite. “Hi!” I said. “Hi,” said Gemma. She smiled and then dropped her folder of work clumsily. “Oh let me help you,” I said, stooping to help her pick the sheaf up, which had scattered about. Tried to think of nothing but slowly traces of Laith swirled back around my thoughts. Was it my fault? Did I not give in enough? I had stood my ground or was that just stubbornness. Someone really needed to write the rule book, the guidelines for cohabitation and a relationship book for dummies. I suddenly felt like Beth was standing over my shoulder giving me her strength. It was not my fault! I stood my ground like I should have and it was definitely all Laith’s fault. Jackass. Closing my. Something really smelled about this whole thing. I didn’t know Bobby Z all too well, other than being a customer for the past several years. We never hung out. Even though he was always honest doing business, I didn’t know what he was like personally. Suppose I walked into that condo on Saturday night and there were ten guys waiting to kick my fucking ass? I didn’t even want to fuck April, anymore. She’s a skank. A sexy skank, but a skank, nonetheless.Could I sell my integrity for an ounce of. He turned her toward me and began unbuttoning the blouse in an open aisle. At the third button, she questioned what he was doing. “Thirteen buttons for thirteen wrong answers, simple.” Though she started to protest, she agreed and let him unbutton her---she always felt a bet or dare was a point of honor and she ‘had’ to comply no matter what! It was the perfect kind of excuse which let her submit and expose herself without blame.Despite all those buttons opened, her blouse was still half.
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