His eyes were soft and rich, yet she was still uncertain what he thought about her. They had been chatting over French fries at the greasy spoon diner...for more than hour and every minute that passed she found herself growing more and more drawn to him. He emanated masculinity, from his tall, full figure to his dense light-colored beard. His long hair hung past his flannel-covered shoulders and framed his face. Redneck, he had called himself. Yet there was something more dynamic there, she also. It was easy to see that both girls had been crying. Not only were their faces streaked but their hair and clothing was unkempt as if they didn't care any more. Even Mrs Cranston was there and she was as bad as the other two. I was sure that if a bottle had been present, it would have been empty by now.There were lots of things I wanted to say but the fact was that I just couldn't mention them now and not in front of these two others. The two girls didn't even seem to notice yet that we were. More

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