I’m still not happy with my jump shot,” Mark replied.Instantly Coach S. fired back, “There’s a lot more to the game than a jump shot, son.”�...�Yeah, I know, Coach, but I think that it’s my biggest weakness,” Mark countered.“I appreciate what you are saying, son, but if you would take an old man’s advice, I would concentrate your energy on your strengths,” Coach S. added as he walked out of the gym.Mark let that rattle around in his brain for a bit. Then he walked over to his gym bag. He sent a. "Can you make white stuff?" he asked, his face almost in mine.I nodded. "Yeah." I gulped because of the direction the conversation wasgoing, and because privately a part of me wanted to go there, too. Onlythree days before, I had been at my bedroom window and I saw Frankie sittingon his front porch wearing nothing but short-shorts and sandals and foundmyself staring at his smooth olive skin and the contour of his features. Fora fleeting moment, I wished I could see him totally naked."How do. More

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