It looked like him. It was the familiar freckled face, tousled sandy hair, and changeable pale blue eyes that sometimes edged towards green. But it wa... as if a shell stood propped up against the sink. He stared at something vacant and empty.Anger marred his face. Even that emotion seemed meaningless. He had the urge to punch out that reflection, to sock the fake Richie on the jaw and make the real one come back."Yeah," he muttered. "I am getting as whacked-out as Cassie."He tore his eyes away.. I don't know what sort of mood got us to try it: I know we'd been drinking. And silly: we'd been silly that night. And somehow it had happened. And the next morning, I'd found myself lying in my bed, shaking with embarrassment.Me with a woman! Leah! My best friend for years! The horror of that morning still haunts me: what was going to happen? How could I face her?I should have called her right away: talked to her. But that's not me: I found myself avoiding her. Slipping away when I saw her. More

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