She was just a girl. A companion for the evening, nothing more, probably much less. No need to explain the complexities of my thought processes to her... No need to explain what I thought about the nature of reality. None of that mattered to her. What did matter to her then? I resigned my self to trying to take another look at her. Try to give her the benefit of the doubt. Try to figure out what she WAS interested it. What she DID think about. I took a sip of my drink and lit a cigarette. It. “Kaylee, do you know who my Dad is?” He withdrew himself about halfway. He groaned as he pulled back.“Kaylee?... Heh, I suppose you’re preoccupied…” He drove in full. I yelped again and moaned and cried. “I’ll tell you Kaylee.” He pulled back again slowly. “My Dad is your former Principal.” He drove back in. The pain was so bad I could only halfway understand what he was saying. He began to build a rhythm. I was struggling, struggling, but I couldn’t get away.“You got my Dad fired.” Coach said. More

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