Lynn and I werealone at home one day, and we were in the living room,lying across from each other on the couch. We were bothrubbing our young pussies ...hile we talked about Lynn'sbest friend Deana. Lynn had never talked to Deana abouther secret lesbian interests; in fact, no one knewabout her sexuality except a couple of friends whom shehad been with before me. Deana was a beautiful girl,with very nice breasts (although not as big as Lynn's)and a fantastic ass. Both of us had seen her. When I swung out my legs into the cool they feltrubbery and insubstantial; my soles protested from the miles I hadtrudged the last few days. Tottering to the mirror, I looked rough; blueeyes hanging with dark bags and bloodshot, my fair hair straggled andunloved. Who was I trying to convince? My skinny cluster of bones andskin wouldn't fool anyone; I was no more a girl than the stuffed donkeyon the chair. These red pyjamas, happily decorated with the friendlysheep, looked ridiculous. Faint. I just didn't know how to adjust to what she had told me. But eventually, as our last year of elementary school wore on and Tabby continued to be, well, Tabby, I gradually relaxed and we regained our old relationship.And then things took a slightly more awkward turn.I had finished my homework, and Tabby and I had sprawled out on the living room floor to watch Sea Hunt. Highway Patrol was about to come on and I decided to go to the kitchen and get Tabby and I a couple of cookies that Mrs.. No team was willing to let him try out for their summer camp. Yasin tried the CFL too without luck. He worked at Home Depot in the fall while he lived with his parents. He decided to try coaching when no team was interested in him during the NFL season. He talked with Coach Burton before Christmas and now here he is.We finished up lunch with John and Brian. They headed for class. Yaz and I walked back to the Lasch Building together."Why do the younger guys call you, Coach?" Yasin asked."It goes.