We danced. I led. She followed. But we moved as if we were one. The song ended, another started. We continued to hold each other, barely moving. She l...oked up at me. Her dark eyes brimmed with tears. I kissed the edge of each eye, tasting her salty emotional offering."Life played a dirty trick on us, Brent," she said so softly I could barely hear her."I know."She nuzzled her damp face in my neck again."If I wasn't your sister, and I asked, would you stop fucking Sherry Crane?" Yes." Would you. He might be a nerd in the 21st Century, but in the 18th, the ladies would have been lining up for a piece of him. ‘Bask in the warmth of your presence as a rose resumes its growth when revived from the chill of the night by the morning sun, and be nourished by the sound of your sweet voice.’ It made me weak in the knees. If I found out he had stolen that phrase from somebody else, I would make him weak in the knees with a baseball bat. If it was his, I would do anything he asked. My God, what. Upon seeing his up close autoerotic frenzy the storm broke, smashed the moorings and submerged me in wave after mindless wave of agonized joy.In his company, free from the chaste confines of my bedroom, there was no longer any need to suppress his name when the crazed sounds burst from my throat, no need to bite my lip or jam my face into a pillow. A sharp, unbridled shout of "Mike!" dissolved into the hush of startled crickets.There was no pause to wonder if he was disturbed or urged on by my. . He brushed his hand across my cheek" That is good. Andrew, you are next." I wrote Rita's words on the board under mine.Turning to Andrew I waited. "She... held my hand." Good, Andrew. Nancy is next."Again I wrote Andrew's comments. Before I finished, Nancy said simply, "He kissed me on the cheek." There were a few giggles to that, and I wrote the words in French."Mark."I had to turn, because he had no reply. One of his friends kicked his desk and he said in English, "She kicked my leg." This.