” She spat. “Oh, sorry RJ, I thought it was one of the neighbor k**s.” “They’ve been pestering me all day to use the pool.” “Nope, just ...e.” I grinned. “Jeff here?” “No, he’s not.” She frowned. “He got called into work, guess somebody didn’t show up.” “Won’t be back before 11 or so.” “Well shit…oops.” I sputtered, blushing. “Didn’t mean to say that, at least not out loud.” “That’s OK RJ.” She said. “While I don’t approve of foul language, you’re old enough to do as you see fit.” “You wanna come. I don't have to take finals next week. I'm free!" Oh no you're not," I told her sternly, and snatched a yellow legal pad off the counter and tossed it to her. It contained my notes from the interview with the Indian lady yesterday. I quickly summarized the story for her. "It's yours," I told her. "You write it, I'll edit it. I'll show you how to sell it to a major, and we'll split the by-line and the fee." She acted as if I'd given her a pot of gold. She was immensely excited, and started. More

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