"Please don't," he said. "Can't we talk?" "W-what about?" I asked, extremely nervous. "That stupididea of yours again?" "No, not if you don't want...to. About anything. Is theresome reason we can't be friends?" "I...I guess not. W-why w-would you want to be friends withme?" "I think you're a cool guy. You're not an asshole like someguys. You're smart, and you like baseball. So do I." "How do you know I like baseball?" He pointed to my notebook with the team decals on it. "AndI know. Little girls have a scientifically documentedpreference for swings, he'd read about it in the Harvard Journal ofMedicine. Of course, Bradley knew better on this occasion. He knew his'cousin.'"OK, let's go play!!" Angie declared, practically bursting from herskin. Lindy and Jane squealed their approval, dancing back and forth inbarely suppressed enthusiasm. Linking hands from left to right, thethree girls spun towards the playground and tore off toward the Jungle-Gym.4."Last one up has to kiss a. More

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