So far, it had worked. But as I sat on the bed, looking at my friend, I realized that I didn’t know why she was here, what her ailment was. Whenever...I’d asked, she’d just said that she was at Sunnyvale because life couldn’t handle her any more. ‘She wants to wash my hands.’ I started to say something because that was such a strange thing to be afraid of but when she held out her hands, I understood everything. My mind traveled back to the last couple of months when we were at breakfast. Every. Instead of your usual jeans and T-shirt, you were wearing an elegant red dress and high-heel shoes, with your blonde hair cascading to your shoulders with a grace that bespoke a careful preparation for this moment. Your dress, which ended at mid-thigh, showed off your long, shapely legs, and clung to your every curve. My thoughts of work, of the bus, of the long walk home, quickly evaporated as I thought ahead to the coming evening. "Are we going out for dinner?" I asked, taking in the sight of. More

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