No, what wowed me was that she seemed free. Free of all the things I'd come to school with-- the need to dress up like every day was a job interview (...hich, to Mother's mind, it was), to impress boys, to be somebody I didn't know if I wanted to be.She looked up at me. "Can I help you?" Yes, I'm looking for a book on a French philosopher-- it's something like Fooko or Fuckall--" Feuh-kohhh," she said, trailing the last syllable out."Right," I said.Then she kind of smirked at me and said "I'll. Yet.I was soon seeing Sal, and hence her family, on a regular basis and started picking up vibes, for want of a better word, that my lust for Mary might just be reciprocated. But, being young and a bit naïve, was too unsure of myself to actually do anything about it. Not that I had the opportunity, the house was normally full of family and Sal was always there. Still, it was obvious to me that every time Mary came into the room the sexual tension between us rose, though we were always polite. More

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