..uh...Stacy." Then one day he simply called me "Butch"before he caught himself.So I asked them all about it. My question seemed to make themuncomfort...ble. Finally Liz said, "When you came here this summer, we allcalled you Butch. It was a nickname you had used all your life; younever called yourself by Stacy, your given name."That struck me as really odd. Why would I want a name like that? But allthey would say was that it fit my old image, somebody who likedskateboards and rough housing. I. “…using you. I was an awful person, and we… we have no chance in hell of being friends now. I’m sorry. It was dumb and I… I don’t want to … have done it. I don’t want… I didn’t… I shouldn’t have done it.” Crying again. Jesus Christ.Molly didn’t respond to what I said. With her poker face, it was hard to tell if she even listened. “Why did you do it?” she finally asked me, hurt showing on her face.“Well…” I began uneasily. “Like I said, I saw you naked, you saw me naked, and something just. More

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