Wendy was a bad writer all on her own. That’s how we met, in a study group. I corrected her essays with a red pen. Maybe that’s why she kept me ar...und.’ ‘I’m sorry, Ben.’ Ben looked up suddenly. ‘Hey, aren’t you supposed to be with your boyfriend, too? Where’s he from, Georgia, Alabama…’ ‘Tennessee. Damn, boy, that girl really did pull you out of society for a while, didn’t she? I broke up with him, like, two weeks ago.’ ‘Really? That’s too bad. I liked him.’ ‘Why’s that?’ ‘He just looked. I told her it would not bother me at all if she wanted to dance with someone as I wanted her to have a great time but she assured me she had no interest. After an hour or so the combination of alcohol and limited pain medicine I had taken started to make me woozy. My wife could tell and said we should go to the room. I told her I was fine and that we'd go when she was tired and ready. She said she was ready then. I wasn't sure if that was because she was tired of seeing others have fun or if. More

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