I just sat there for several moments thinking just what I could ever have done to make her feel this way. I never asked my mother for a dime in my lif..., I had been almost fourteen when I moved in with my father. From that time on, I had rarely even spoken to her, much less asked for anything. I pushed it out of my mind, but I had a bad feeling that I had not heard the end of this situation. I decided to call my grandfather, just in case she had spoken to him, as she had to me.I could tell. And to determine what mine were!"When does he get back?" I asked, afraid that he would be gone allsummer. I wasn't sure that I could handle that."At the end of next week," she said. "It was a two week camp, and he leftearly Monday morning. I don't think he even heard about your collapse,because he hasn't called for more information."I sighed and leaned my head back against the couch. I was supposed to berecuperating, but instead I started my recuperation by being stressed outover Ethan.I spent. At the end of summer, in August, I left for U of M and football camp, and a month or so later, she left for Harvard. We called at first, almost every day, texted even more often. We wrote e-mails and talked about our days, our lives, our classes. I told her about football and how much harder college ball was than high school. She told me about her four roommates and shared funny stories about them.September turned to October, October to November and the calls became more infrequent, the e-mails. ”She wasn’t bad looking, a bit older than me, but maybe only by about 10 years max or so and she took good care of herself I thought and she had a sexy twinkle in her eye.I did not try to hide my hardon and actually pushed my pelvis forward to make it more prominent. I asked for some extra bottles of the house brand champagne, and asked her to put them on my room tab.While she was writing up the purchases I could see, from looking into the top of her shirt that she wasn’t wearing a bra and even.