Be a boy, be a girl, besomething in between, or something new. It doesn't matter. Just,please, I don't want to lose you." Okay," I said with a sigh...."But no vintage clothes. At least not now. I wanna think this over some more." Deal."Chapter Three:Might Be Thinkin' 'Bout Goin' Down to the ShoreThat weekend, we got up before light, loaded up the Mountaineer (Emilyalways made cracks about how her tiny mother loved to drive this massivetank) and moved to the sea. Actually, not the sea- to a. Her face was as grey as Celia's. I too must have looked shaky because I felt sick and my legs tottered. We stared at each other like ashes."Well, Owen?" She'd tell us if she knew," I said hoarsely."I agree." I know she's telling the truth," I said, not because I felt for Celia, but because I believed it to be so. "She cares for no one; she'd hold out for no one. And she'd have kept her little scam to herself for as long as possible, hoping to maximise the proceeds. It's the way the bitch. And the man had called out to another human, this one with longer red-blonde hair, a thick matching beard jutting from his chin, and an almost blindfold-like blind across his eyes, black, shielding them from her. The strawberry blonde haired man promptly walked over to the elven warlock and slapped her, hard. Her head whipped to the side and stars sprouted behind her eyelids. She gasped, shocked as much by the pain of the act as by the act itself. Black goatee man laughed loudly and walked up. “Here, you take the paper towels. I don’t want you to get hurt.” “OK.” I took the roll of paper towels from him and scrubbed the floor in tight circles, trying to push the smaller shards to a central area and clean up the grease at the same time. Dad became distracted. I followed his eye line and saw my breasts swaying softly with my scrubbing motions. I scrubbed a little harder for his benefit, then threw away the dirty towel while he finished throwing away the remaining shards.“Well, I guess.