“Hello. My name is Arvid. Welcome to my country,” which I couldn’t have done in Swedish.“Hello, Arvid. My name is Holly and I’m from America...” spacing out my words.“My name is Pedar,” from his friend. “My English practice is not large, but I read it, particularly Michael Crichton.”“He’s very popular,” I encouraged, though I found him to be formulaic.Inge winked at me, then said. “Perhaps you would join us for a potluck?” showing off her English.“What we call a meal where we share,” I. When they got to her house, she was dragged out of the car and left in the front yard nude as they drove off. The strangest part was how much I wanted to be with her right then, or maybe it was how much I wanted to be her? I knew then that I would call her and be anything she wanted me to be to her.The rest of the day, I vacillated between being scared to death and so excited that I almost screamed. I looked at the video of Mom fingering herself, thought of Jackie and wondered if I should have. More

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