Maturity Is Highly Overrated.

I Like Daniel. He Takes Care Of You." I Blinked. "oh My God. Did You Really Just Say That? He Takes Care Of Me?" Dad Flushed. "i Didn't Mean It Like-" "takes Care Of Me? Did I Go To Sleep And Wake Up In The Nineteenth Century?" I Looked Down At My Jeans And T-shirt. "ack! I Can't Go To School Like This. Where's My Corset? My Bonnet?" Dad Sighed As Mom Walked In With Her Empty Teacup. "what Did I Miss?" She Said. "dad's Trying To Marry Me Off To Daniel." I Looked At Him. "you Know, If You Offer Him A New Truck For A Dowry, He Might Go For It.

Hello, Aaron," Brigid Said, Sliding Up To Him And Running A Finger Down His Chest. "you're Looking Good . . . As Always." Aaron Lifted Her Finger Off His Shirt And Let It Drop. "put Some Clothing On, Brigid." She Smiled Up At Him. "why? Tempted?" "yeah, To Cover My Eyes.

When I Glanced At The Chair, It Started To Shake. I’d Like To Think It Was Scared Of Me, But I Rarely Invoked That Response In Living Things, Let Alone Inanimate Objects.

A Stereotype Becomes A Stereotype When A Significant Percentage Of The Population Appears To Conform To It.

Dont Talk To The Crazy Kids. I Longed To Shout Back That We Weren't Crazy. I'd Mistaken Her Kid For A Ghost, That's All.