Putting on his beat up old terrycloth robe, he walked barefoot down the hall and paused at the door to his father's room. Pressing his ear to the pane..., he could barely make out the whispering inside, and drew back quickly. Lorena had scored, that was certain; she was talking with the old man now, and nobody was raising hell. That left the next move up to him, so he went on to his mother's bedroom and quietly opened the door. The bedside radio was playing softly, and its dial light was the only. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” he said as if we had planned this as a date. He caressed my face, and every goosebump on my body rose and every hair pricked up. “Coach Krisby is my neighbor, and also a drunk. About a month ago, he came over and spilled a lot of delicious information.” I opened my eyes and saw him sitting in the seat across from me. “See, he never wanted to fuck a little boy. Oh, no! But even though he felt like pure shit after each time, he could not deny how. More

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