You can do this. I lifted him up by his chin as the elevator dinged. I walked him to one of those shitty, food-by-the-pound bodegas in the financial d...strict (although one I happened to know brewed counter-culture coffee (Im not a heathen)), because I didnt want to see anyone either of us knew. More like marched him there really, I walked him as fast as I possibly could, so that by the time we got there he was panting pretty heavily through his nose, and no doubt swallowing a lot of spit that. "So Stacy, let's talk about what you can do to get that passing grade." Mr. B said. I started to think of assignments I could do, such as doing all the questions from the assignment, not just the even numbered ones. I kept thinking of other things to do, but he just sat there on my desk quietly, with just a playful grin on his face. "That's not really what I had in mind Stacy" he said. "Whatever you want me to do Mr. B, I'm just thankful for your consideration," I said a bit bookishly. Mr. B. ‘I don’t know Master, your father certainly liked you enough to buy me for you.’ ‘He did, but that was because he thought I wasn’t responsible enough to have a car.’ Master said, as he shrugged. ‘That doesn’t really say much good about me. Especially since you’re worth less than the Land Cruiser I was supposed to get, since you’re as much of a failure as I am.’ Hearing that hurt. That really hurt me. God knows what it did to him. I really needed to get him off that topic before something bad. It was with a little fear and trepidation that he suggested she pack a bikini. She only wore those abroad, she said, but when he pointed out that Devon practically was abroad, and he blushingly told her he thought she looked very lovely in her purple polka-dot set, she remembered the guilty feeling she had whenever she giggled over his poor scared face surrounded by broken glass, and made sure he saw her add it to her case. So the day arrived (let the reader understand that border patrols on.