Alone in front of the bar stood Mr. Z, arms folded across his chest, his face expressionless, as though he'd never met me before. Never mind he'd neve... been a cuddly guy or an outwardly warm father in his interactions with his daughters, but he'd at least acknowledged my existence before now. He'd even attended a couple of my games, and my parents and I had watched some of the girls' soccer matches."Hello, Mr. Z." I knew better than to offer my hand.No answer.I tried a little bit of a smile, an. And stimulating. Back to Marcus and I.Marcus is a very personal guy; he leans in close when you speak, even if it's casual. He often places hands on you, claps you on the back, squeezes your shoulder, all that. Never noticed it until recently. He's also an arrogant ass much of the time. Pisses me off, but I never thought it'd play into what was about to transpire.Marcus is a big guy, almost freakishly big. He's adult size already, and we're Sophomores in High School. He's the star lineman of. More

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