Who could blame them? I looked at my lunchmates.“Go ahead and take a seat. I’ll be right back,” I said, and guided Mr. Palm, Dr. Rossetti, and D...rius off to the side.I ignored everyone but Darius and looked him in the eyes. Okay, that’s not true, because he was looking at his shoes. His mom had dressed him up like he was going to church, not school. I gave him till the end of the day before someone stuffed him into a locker, or worse.“What grade are you in?” I asked.“He’s a junior. We told him. The house was more magnificent than I had first witnessed, towering three stories instead of the customary two that the other houses were limited to. With a smooth, white stone covering the first story and spires at each corner, it was almost as if I were looking at a medieval castle up close. The front yard, though divided by the U-shaped driveway, was as immense as a football field, yet every blade of grass was perfectly manicured with tulips and daffodils lining the sidewalk, all the way. She loved washing down a male corpse. The silence of the cellarroom and the stillness of the men it contained. She could sit for hours with them and watch. Other times she couldn't help but kiss them, stroke them fondly after completing her task of cleaning them properly. She also spoke to them, breathed in the smell of their freshly-cleaned, lifeless bodies.The presence of death intoxicated her, brought her kneeling to her own sexuality and passions. With a dead man inside her she could come. The sparks in her dark eyes danced as she cursed me out. She had to keep brushing her lustrous black hair back out of her face, and then her animated antics would cause it to fall forward again, only adding to her consternation. The exposed tops of her abundant breasts jiggled like water in a shaking glass as she continually pointed at or shook her fist at me.“Would you please tell the beautiful princess that I apologize for not understanding a word she is saying? Tell her I can tell that she.