He was a redheaded hazel eyed Irish who was theman that I should have born as instead of the petite blond that I am.He is tall and rugged, like my Dad...and excels at anything that he does.When we met in the first grade, we became fast friends so that when hisparents died just before graduation, my parents become his fosterparents as per their Will. He now has a nice house and his parents twoLincoln Continentals as well as his Chevy blazer.We became as close as a brother and sister could get and. Not Gwen, and not you.”His expression abruptly grew serious. “Oh shit ... I just remembered something. When is the show again? I don’t think I can make it.”“Are you serious?” I blurted out, but quickly saw that he was messing with me.“Chill, dude,” he chuckled. “I know it’s on Saturday.”“A week from Saturday,” I clarified. “There’s a lot of people working on this, you know, so don’t fuck around.”“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, we’ll be there, and we’ll rock our set. Did you really just come here to. More

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