She could feel the texture of the dirt and scabbing scratches under her finger tips. She ran her hands down her sides and over her hips. There wasn’... much left of her white shirt, the material had been torn away just under her breasts all the way around her back, like some sort of makeshift midriff top, and her black pencil skirt? Well, there wasn’t much left of that either. Oddly enough it wasn’t cold, she couldn’t feel any draft or heating, perhaps she was still in shock. What am I going to. While the parents were talking and walking down the hall towards the front of the building, Mike and Emelie moved closer together and began their own conversation. "I am so embarrassed Michael. Don't be afraid to say no. My mom is quite the organizer/planner," she pointed out guardedly. "That's not a problem. I would be happy to help you in math. You could ride my bus home and we could work before dinner, maybe a couple of days a week." "I would like that," she said with a big smile on her face. More

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