“I’ll keep my thoughts to myself. Completely clinical.” And the analytical side of my brain was engaged in mortal combat with the romantic side....I got a wet washcloth and gently wiped his face.“I could use a bath. I feel sticky.”“I’ll see what I can get you,” I said. I left. Came back with a pan and more washcloths and towels.“W-w-wait a second. Shouldn’t somebody else be doing this?”“You’re a perv, Buddy. Wantin’ to show yourself off to some stranger.”“No,” he said, “just that you know. I'm sorry, Anne. I'll concentrate more. I have to save you. Then I have to let you go.Geoffrey cries a minute or two longer, before he can make himself stop, then he shakes himself and reaches to the back seat for a soft drink from the cooler. Open it. Drink. He grabs a flashlight and gets out to check the damage to the car. There's a fender crease, maybe a yard long. He shines the light all over the right rear tire, feels it. "Shit!" Finally he gets back in, starts the engine and takes off. The older kids were in the same building as the younger ones, making the younger ones easy targets for being pushed around and bullied. But I had a different kind of bullying against me, a kind that turned out rather interesting.It all started when I entered the 7th grade. As a boy, I was small for my age, being both short and a lightweight, just a little kid. Thus I was always a target, including by two older kids; girls, actually 3rd or 4th cousins. Our extended cousin families didn’t really. They said..hey the cutoff is 90%..how can you even apply and even if you get admission how will you pay admission fees. I was stunned. My uncle had left me some which was not even sufficient for one year fees. They felt sorry for me and said…if you want admission in this type of college and pay admission fees and pass, it is possible. I asked how? They said…come with us and do as we tell you. They went and filled my form and gave it to the clerk and winked at him. I was shocked and the clerk.