‘Billy my man!’ I said. ‘You gigging tonight?’ ‘Yeah,’ he said, twirling his guitar, ‘doing a tight twenty. You still playing?’ ‘Sti...l.’ I said. ‘Still writing?’ he asked, hopefully. ‘Scribbling’s more like it.’ ‘Oh.’ he said, sounding disappointed. ‘Hey, you wanna’ sit in?’ If he had asked me two hours earlier I would have said no. But two hours earlier I had no moon, no stirring, no poky boner. Now I had energy to burn, so I jumped at the chance to get on stage. I grabbed the mike like a. Underneath, she wore black crotchless tights, where her mound would be revealed if she pulled down the zipper, yet her legs would be in the wet-look black.With Mr. VargasStella, Ada, and I went into Mr. Vargas’ room. He greeted us with smiles. “Going to beat those football wannabes at Washington this weekend?”“Sure!” (We had no idea of the rivalries. Will have to check that before our next date.)Cath sat to talk to him. She carefully crossed her legs, letting her skirt rise. “Annamarie came. More

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