It was clear that there was a lot going on in her mind, so I dropped the Sister Cate persona for a second and said, "Really, sweetie. This will be goo... for you. I should know. You read my stories. You know that I dropped a lot of baggage. I promise that I'll help you." "It's just that... this was the only way that my husband could light my fire, but... oh, god, it's just been so long." The tears start, so I stand and hug her as she lets them out. I hold her close, nothing overtly sexual about. "I am not."We talked another fifteen minutes about boys and school and sex, or the general lack of it. Trisha was the prettiest friend I had, brunette with the prettiest green eyes. She had the breasts I craved, a perfect shape, and legs that made mine look like something rejected at the chicken factory. I weigh 98 lbs; Trisha weighs 125 and has it in all the right places. She is extremely popular."I have to go," she said."I have to go, too. Call me later?" You call me." When?" Later. Or text. More

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