Chapter ThreeOver the next month the problem of the mysterious Sandy almostdisappeared. Bret had cornered him the next time he was in The Shamrock,but...Sammy told him he couldn't find Sandy's telephone number."Oh, man, that's too bad. She was really hot," Bret said. "Ooops. I'msorry. No offense, man." None taken," Sammy said. "Just a temp. I don't even know her." Oh. Well, man, I'd love to tag up with her again. Very talented lips, ifyou know what I mean."Sammy made a fraternity-of-guys. " I was just... talking, trying to make sense as I spoke. It wasn't working. He said, really quietly, "I'm so sick of being this."He looked up at me. He wasn't crying anymore. He was wet though. Soaked. His hair was plastered to his head, and he still looked beautiful; for some reason, he reminded me of one of those 'Precious Moments' figurines."Now you're talking about your self. All anybody fucking cares about is themselves. Even me, especially me. Me! This is me! I'm a boy in a dress, this. More

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