“Robbie,… he…. Um he hurt me” I was wide awake now.“What do you mean he hurt you Renee?“We were out tonight and went his friends place af...er but he was drunk and still wanted sex. I said no and he slapped me. He was so angry; it scared me to see him like that.”“Renee this is not your fault, if this is how he treats women, you need to find a better guy.”“I don’t want to see him, at least not for a while, but he’s coming to your party.” She was talking between the sobs.“Renee I’ll make sure. I was turned on by it and lay on my bed and masturbated until I too came. It reminded me of all the times I used to lay in bed at night, masturbating, while I listened to him fucking Mom. They went at it hard. Mom was a screamer. I’d had a lot of sleepless nights when Mom lived here.Dad was lying there, passed out, wearing only a dirty wife-beater t-shirt and these really gross bikini briefs that he loved for some weird reason. I guess Mom had liked to see him in them. I thought they looked. I turned to my new friend and extended my hand, ‘I’m Margaret Hawthorne. Everybody calls me Peg.’ She looked up at me with those coal black eyes and replied meekly, ‘Maria — Maria Gonzales.’ ‘It’s nice to meet you, Maria,’ I said, ‘Where are your from?’ ‘The Bronx,’ she answered, ‘But originally from Puerto Rico.’ I had never met anyone from anyplace but Vermont in my whole life. I smiled at her and told her where Jack and I had come from. There was no more time for any further conversation. "A bit more to what than that?" Bree asked."I kind of need the wig," I said. "It helps me to look feminine." But you look feminine without the wig," Bree said."I need all the help I can get," I said quietly."Oh, please," Bree sighed. "Why do you say that?" Um," I said, annoyed by the charade, "because I'm really a guy?" What?" Bree exclaimed. She jumped in front of the chair and carefullystudied my face. "Oh my God," she said."Oh come on," I mumbled."I had no idea!" Bree looked over at.