“What’ll your mom do if we go up to your bedroom?” I asked.“Call every big man she knew to come over and break your legs,” Frieda said, with...a slump. “She still thinks I’m a virgin.”“Let her think that,” Owen said. “Call a cab. We’ll go somewhere else.” Natasha erupted in a firestorm of curses and spittle. Owen scratched his hair. “Or maybe we don’t have to and I should just go back to your father and hers.”“Merci.“ Natasha growled with finality. She stabbed her thumb into the hang-up icon on. She hadrejected my every attempt to ask her out. And now, and now the goddess ofmy dreams was standing before me as if I was a hors d'oeuvre on a tray.I was grinning nervously as I said, "Hi Clara," I sipped my wine. "I'msure that you might not remember me from school." I paused. "I'm MichelleConnors."Clara's smile was wide and almost wolf like as she said, "Michelle," shepaused, "I must say that in all the years apart you have made a tremendousimprovement in your self." She looked at me. "Oh. More

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