He nodded, and Leah finished snorting the line.Overwhelmed by the impact, she collapsed back on the sofa, somehow unable to do anything more coherent,...let alone resume her bullshit-filled conversation that had stopped mid-sentence before they entered the condo.She laid back, a cigarette in her hand, but not smoking it. She found herself staring at a print on the wall. Utrillo? she wondered.Conrad idly watched her as he enjoyed the rush of the coke, and noting the ash was about to fall on the. . as soon as I climbed into my tank, there would be a pillow on my seat. A very fluffy pillow.The ribbing didn’t stop until our compound was attacked one night. The Marine Corps prides itself on the fact that no matter what your MOS (Military Occupational Specialty) is, at heart every Marine is a rifleman.During the attack by a much larger force I grabbed my M-16 and with the help of my best friend, managed to take out a number of enemy combatants allowing the members of my platoon to safely. Upon finishing the paper, she made a quick lunch of soup to counter the calories from her breakfast, constantly glancing toward the door and willing someone to knock on it. Her wish didn't come true, and the hours continued their slow march.She nearly surrendered to the notion that nothing was coming this year as the afternoon wore on. Only the snow, the resulting travel difficulty, and the sheer volume of floral deliveries kept her hopes alive, but they were fading fast.The knock she'd awaited. There was only one thing to do. I stayed after class one day and removed the modesty panel in the front of her desk that hid her legs from the view of all of us horny guys trying desperately to sneak a peek at a little bit of lace. From my desk, her entire chair seat was visible.Waiting has never been my strong suit, but somehow the next class period finally rolled around. None of the girls in the class appeared to notice the absence of the modesty panel, but some of the guys perked right up..