“It was Chloe Goodman. I’m sure it was.”“Really?”“I’m sure it was. You must come here, Paul. You might make friends with her.”“Isn�...t this her last year? She won’t even be here next year to make friends with—which would be pretty unlikely even if she was still here, wouldn’t it?”Clarissa smiled and shrugged and we started down the steps.“But, what do you want to do next year? Not your mom. You?” I’d taken a few more steps down before I realised that she’d stopped and was looking at me with the. I got a towel, dried Annetteoff and suggested that she lay on her stomach on one ofthe cushions so that I could oil her back for the triphome. Cocoa oil was soon wandering down her spine as Irubbed the lotion onto her back. As I was doing so, I leaned over and questioned intoher ear if she wanted this to go on any further. Anever-so-slight smile joined the slight nod of her head,and I knew that we were in for a detour on our ridehome. Next, I slid the bottoms of her bikini off of herass and. More

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