We even listened to a tape they had made of the choir. After he had been in the choir a while (he was 9), his father asked Andrew how he liked it. And...ew said, “It’s great except for that God thing.” That’s our Andrew. So we had a civil ceremony. Donnie was the maid of honor. We wore the same outfits, the same shoes (Donnie and I). At some point in the ceremony when the J.P. wasn’t looking, we casually switched places. No one noticed except Andrew. He always knows who is who. He was glad. It. Quietly I lay sprawled out on his sofa, reading a nice little romantic fantasy-fiction. Whenever Ian tested his ideas I would pause on my reading to listen in.‘…With a kiss on the cheek she’ll be down on her knees begging please, baby, please…’ were the lyrics he’d just sang as he strummed the musical instrument.‘What kind of song are you writing?’ I ask curiously.‘It’s a song I dedicate to my ex, Lexi,’ he smirked. ‘She’s a dick-hopper.’ I knew Lexi, she and I had been best friends in ninth. More

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