Her hair was soft and pleasantly scented. She whispered instructions as we moved. I tried to back off because I feared she would notice the little bro...m stick between us.” Wendy snickered. “Ellen tightened her grip on my shoulder and squeezed my hand saying, ‘It’s okay.’ By the third song I had loosened up, actually feeling the beat of the music. Then she kissed me on the lips.” Wendy sat up, eyes glowing. She did not interrupt this time. “You may as well have had a lesson in kissing,” Ellen. Suffering, or perhaps better phrasing; not prospering. Rick was no shining star or football quarterback. Not much of an artist, nor academic, and lacking the real coordination to do much more than bring insult to the realm of musicians, he really was what you would generally define as "nothing special." Try as he might, screaming at the top of his lungs trying to go Super Sayan as a young boy, he never developed superpowers, and thus had to rely on manual locomotion to get his ass to school on. More

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