‘Pull up a chair. When’s your first class?’ Carla asked. During my preoccupation with Sharon, I totally forgot about English 102. My panicked lo...k gave me away. ‘Your first day and you’re late for class, not a good start B.M.O.C.,’ Carla said, before I sped out of the building. Luckily, I was familiar with campus via summer session. I arrived only a minute or two late but as I sat in class, the image of Sharon dominated my thoughts. I was thankful that some of my closer high school chums were. Another, it was a movie we’d made on our laptop, featuring us fighting stuffed animals in a cardboard space ship. Last year, it was a vase we’d spent weeks making in pottery class. “What should we get Dad this year?” Josie had asked me a month ago. “Shit, I don’t know.” I sighed, “What do adults give their parents? A nice card?” “Dads love beer, right? I can call up Thomas and have him buy us some lagers or something.” “You think Dad would be cool with that?” I raised a brow, “I know he’d. More

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