Perhaps that is why I fell for Miss Crawford. We seemed to be feathers of the same ugly duckling. I helped Miss Crawford, who allowed me to call her ...achel when not in school, with the team, luging around equpment and assisting during practises. I was growing more and more fond of being with her. Whenever she touched my shoulder or patted my ass in a playful manner I felt these electrified needles pricking my skin. She even started invading my dreams. My sister told me on several occasions I. I got lost in this for a bit. Then I heard their inevitable giggling, muffled because of the blanket over their faces, and they were giggling at a higher pitch, like Betty Boop, so it was hard to differentiate their voices. Then they started saying little 'oooohs', and 'aaaahs', and 'Oh, I bet he's enjoying this!' And their previously unmoving bodies were quivering. I figured, now that the two motor-mouth brats were talking, I would easily figure out who was who. But I was wrong. They. More

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