Danny had long taken Mountainvista as being a two opposing-tracks town as symbolic of his own two-track existence, neither white nor black and “diff...rent” from others in his natural interests, even at fourteen, in a conservative small Southern town. He was neither here nor there, and with two sets of train tracks going in different directions moving in the town, there were multiple ways of living on the wrong side of the tracks. This was a town where someone could be an outcast for living on. The day had been uneventful and I was stretched out on the sofa with a glass of red wine when he shuffled into the lounge. "Hey, Joey!" I said, cringing internally at how artificially chirpy my voice sounded. He just smiled as he took a seat and blankly stared at the TV screen. My satin pyjamas suddenly seemed like a bad idea. The thin cami straps barely held up my breasts and the shorts had ridden up to show a more than decent amount of my thighs. I tried to shift discretely but the sound. More

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