"You do? Really?" Yeah," he nodded, slowly. "I do." His eyes took them in again, then went down to her hips, legs. "I also wish you wore shorts more."...That's not very gay of you." Her hand squeezed his knee. Bobby shrugged."I don't know what I am anymore."He looked down in his lap. He didn't like the bitterness in his voice. He wasn't bitter. What he was might be in question, but he wasn't bitter. Wasn't...Vicky's left hand touched his cheek, gently moving his head to face her. The hand on his. She was not a common street walker, she was not attractive in that cheap way. She was elegant and calm. "You are the epitome of everything perfect," I whispered into her ear as we began dancing. She blushed, and when she did I remembered my English teacher's explication of the poem, 'My Last Duchess.' "When," he had asked, "is a woman most beautiful." "After sex." had been my asinine reply. "No," he said, "when she blushes." I remember giggling. Not believing, but now, as Amy face. More

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