He turned his chair towards me and wiggled his pointer finger, signaling for me to come forward. I took steps towards him until he stopped, which was ...ight in front of him. "Get on your knees now," he demanded in a husky tone. I was taken aback. "W-what?" I sputtered out. Mr. West was a tall - probably 6'2 or 6'4 - black man. His outfits often made his muscles gloriously dignified. I could tell he worked out. "Do you want extra credit or not?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me. I nodded my. My heart thundered in my chest as I poured out its contents to Patricia. She just sat there, a sad look upon her face. I sighed, and slowly got up. I told her that I would never bother her again, since loving someone like me is something she could never do. Then I walked out of the restaurant. I crossed the street, to take the Green Line train to Boston College. Patricia didn’t follow me. When I got home that night, I did something I didn’t normally do. I chugged down three beers. I asked my. More

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