I wanted him to give me the kind of smile that meant ‘let’s do this again’ before we both drifted off to sl**p. On several mornings, I would get...up, only to realize that part of me had already risen. Brandon was usually still asl**p. I’d walk across our dorm room, hoping he’d wake up to a view of my morning wood. He never did. Instead, I would hop into the shower and empty my load down the drain. Feeling some relief, I’d quickly get dressed and head to class. Brandon and I were on different. "Why?" I asked. "I know I should feel bad, feel guilty, feel I don't know, responsible?" He said as he shook his head. "I don't feel anything. I don't feel remorse or sad. I do feel sad for the family and their friends, but other than that...nothing." I moved away from him. "Me too," I answered. All this time I had tried to make myself feel something like trying to remember the last conversation with Melissa, I didn't feel sorry about what I had said. She had told everyone about me. "Melissa,". More

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