" Wendy said and Luke cursed as he scraped his knuckle on a bolt. "Wendy, what have I told you about inviting strangers over to our house?" He said sl...ding out from under the car while holding his scraped knuckle with a rag. "Their not 'strangers' Luke, me and Mark have met them both and their nice: Stacie's in AP mathematics classes and Abigail is a manager at a grocery store, it's not like they're a pair of hitchhikers we picked up on Route 20." Wendy countered, better at debate than either. The first time I went up there, found a ride from my parents of all people, dropping me off at a strip mall two blocks down, I went in there and was turned away because I didn’t have an id. I got turned away.It took me three weeks to get the courage to go back, and when I did I stole my dad’s car when they went to bed one Friday night and I dressed as slutty as I could possibly. When I walked in there were a lot of people, and I didn’t really get a second glance from the same guy. I walked. The postman that morning was carrying a very important cargo — though of course, he didn’t realise it. Five envelopes. Five plain white manila envelopes made their way through the postal system and landed on five very different doorsteps. The contents of those five envelopes prompted five entirely different reactions. ‘So, dinner at the big house,’ Mark muttered as he looked at the invitation. ‘Great, just what I needed — that means I’ll need to get my tuxedo back from the dry cleaners.’ ‘Oh. Her sense of dry, sarcastic humor meshed perfectly with my British wit (Or lack thereof) and we could be at ease speaking on any topic. Our personalities meshed so perfectly that, as long as I didn't dwell on her perfect body, I could regard her as a female me.After graduation we each got a Summer job at a nearby State Park. I renting out paddle boats next to a small lakeside beach area and Rose Ann as hotel staff. Her job ended well before I was off the job and she would often stop by either.