The girl had fixed a salade niçoise with home-baked focaccia, fresh fruit and chilled pinot gris. They sat on the platform, a huge white sail blottin... out the sun. It flapped in the breeze, making the poles it was fixed to creak like the masts of an ancient ship. The girl sat at Pam's feet, caressing the dog; he panted from the heat. She looked up and nodded."You know I have to," she said."That sounds like a chore," Pamela remarked, chuckling."No chore," the girl answered. "No nothing. It is. “Kenny?” “Yeah?” Kenny replied, his eyes never leaving mine. “Come on,” Anthony said. “Let’s get some shots in before the bell.” “Okay,” Kenny said. “I’ll see you later, Samantha.” “Yeah.” I didn’t see Kenny again until lunch. We decided to walk a few laps around the track. “What happened this morning?” Kenny asked me. “I don’t know,” I said. “It was weird.” “I’ve been thinking about you ever since this morning,” he confessed. “I’ve been thinking about you, too.” He looked at me. “Really?” We. More

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