Mike and I had had some good times in that car during my first trip through. We would go to keggers, to parties, just out cruising. We would use the c...r to cut school with, driving to the river to go fishing.Though I had no plans to do most of the stuff we used to do in the car, I figured that simply driving a few miles to school would be safe enough. I was wrong.Mike's driving in that Bug used to scare me even before being recycled. It absolutely terrified me afterwards. It only took me one. I probably do too," she said.He didn't confirm her guess. Things were awkward enough already."Shit!" she yipped, bouncing up onto her knees. "What time is it? I have class!"That got him moving. He hit the bathroom first, thinking he'd get finished and get out so she could take over. He sat on the commode, which was his usual method of dealing with morning wood, and looked up to see her standing there, cool as a cucumber, leaning against the door jamb watching him."Don't you dare get scared on. She had been a real beauty, and it was disconcerting, but somehowreassuring, that I looked a lot like her.Every time I tried something new, something more feminine, Stanley lovedit. When we saw each other around campus, it was the same old Stanley,but on weekends, he treated me like a girl. He was sweet and attentiveand gentle (except when I didn't want him to be.) I still couldn'tfigure out if I was just a temporary thing with him, like those guys didwith each other back in Tanzania, or if. The wind whipped around and the trellis, which was wood, started to fall apart. The roses and all the thorns fell into me cutting me under my arms, down my chest and back.Mrs. Baker saw me from the back door and yelled, "Oh my god, Jimmy. Just drop it and get in the house before you get hurt." I dropped the trellis and ran into her kitchen. I was soaking wet and bleeding from several little cuts. Mrs. Baker ran and got a towel for me. My gym shorts were soaking wet as well as my sneakers. She.