”Olive smiled and patiently waited for her cantankerous friend to ratchet down. “He already knows you’re an accomplished slut. Why not gift him ...he redux legacy of a filthy whore. A filthy fucking Christmas whore.”Debbie glared at Olive as their eyes widened with sorority memories of their wanton past. It came back to Debbie like a forgotten, blacked-out drunken memory.“Remember what we did with the ping pong balls?” Olive prompted.“Holy shit,” Debbie said. “What were we thinking?”“We were. If a good driver talks to his passengers he doesn't look at them ... looking at the person in the back seat is the epitome of rude. He keeps the volume on the radio low enough that he can hear what's happening to the engine ... and he listens for sirens. He should always yield to emergency vehicles ... nobody ever said look up for low flying cars.The sounds of a collision are distinct. It takes a millisecond to realize you weren't in the collision. You should always be ready to render. Most of the time she’s not around, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to quit trying to get her to notice me. * “You know, this whole stalking thing is getting a little creepy,” she said with a smirk as she got out of her car. “What?” I asked, completely taken aback. “You know, walking past my apartment every chance you get. And don’t play dumb, you could easily take a different route when walking the dog,” she shot at me, causing me to scramble for words. “I, uh, well…” I stuttered. “Ha, I’m. "I am, it's true."Then, ever so slightly, she smiled at me, and my whole world lit up like a Christmas tree."I miss talking to you," she sighed.I poured out my heart to her, telling her all the million things I'd wanted to over the past five days. Made sure she knew that she was the absolute, uncontested love of my life."Alright, alright!" she finally laughed, putting a stop to my gushy ramblings. "Listen, as long as it really was just a little harmless fooling around, and as long as you don't.