Just cross a couple of trees, jump the creek, over the fence and you’re there. So it’s much closer than my apartment. I help Monday, Tuesday and T...ursday practice from 9h30 to 11h30PM (it’s some 16 and 17 high school guys and it’s two groups). I sometimes go to the week-end game but not often.As an added bonus I get a pool in the hottest month of summer and get to watch a bit the women in my old street. There are about 11 houses in this section of the street and a couple a cute women in them.. I was grateful for the break in the sexual tension.But it was him. Texting from the back room. “I’m texting so I don’t embarrass myself with you. This fucking story is so hot, this shit you write is so real… and, well… if you wanna help, or join me… you know where I am. Worst case, I’m gone in a day and a half.My mind raced. This was one of those moments you think will never come. I texted back one word: “Serious?”His response came. “I’d love to try. See if it’s better than before. If it’s. The long hair gave me a clue, the stature hinting at one of the girls next door. Indeed, as I closed in I saw it was Ellen, the middle sister. She had to be fifteen, nearly sixteen by now. It was hard to recognize her, because I still thought of her as the pretty five-year-old girl I moved in next door to a decade ago when I got my house.But there she stood, on the other side of the glass, shifting around and looking agitated and worried. Her honey hair was darker and lanker because it was. " I dropped the dollar, but missed the cup. Did he move it at the last second? I wasn't really watching. His grunt of gratitude unnerved me. I just wanted to hurry away."Fucking wind!" He growled. If only I hadn't looked back. The dollar bill danced towards me. I picked it up and returned it to the grim looking bum."Sorry." I spun back towards the rail stop."If only." He muttered.I lost it. I don't know why. I'm not that type. "Who else gives you a dollar, every damn day? I missed your cup.