It was like your senior year in high school when everyone stopped giving a fuck and just let everybody know exactly what they thought of them; who the... couldn’t stand; who they wanted to fuck; who ass they wanted to whoop, it was good times. But here I was weeks later at my going away party and I hadn’t heard a peep. Sure I was being approached by random people asking me where was I getting reassigned to, but where was the real shit? Who always had some kind of secret crush on me and wanted to. It's amazing the difference that dark of night, booze, and a liberal dose of self-hatred can make in what you'll allow to happen to your body.So, there I was, at my cube, a mirror propped up on my scanner. I'd just finished my face, brows, eyes, and was mid-stroke of some lipstick when -- too late -- I heard a footstep and a soft, but masculine throat-clearing behind me. I quickly placed the wand back into the tube of liquid lipstick and spun around in my chair.Not that I was a social employee,. I'm pretty set right now on majoring in business or finance, my math grades have always been good, and I'm near the top of my class.So, I do get kidded about being a bit of a nerd, though I don't wear glasses and look pretty normal. I'll enter my senior year at the end of summer and then it's a straight shot into college and I'm ready.But, there's still a year of high school and a summer of work at the library. I do mostly shelving and putting new books into the system which I already know how. “Why?”“It’s too hard for the machinery to keep track. Oh, we know. It’s just fifteen minutes here ... but it’s days or weeks ... or even months there. The equipment is centuries old and it’s beginning to ‘forget.’” She said.Then she started to look around.Zoe had an idea and blocked her path back to the head. “Come see our boat,” she said.“Oh, I couldn’t,” the girl replied. “They told me to come right back. Is that a rocker?” She was looking at Zo’s custom double-wide chair. “It looks.