She plopped into an empty seat, set her knapsack next to her, straightened her cute, black, short skirt and closed her eyes. “May I sit here?” she...thought she heard right. Sleepily she opened one eye to see an older woman, about thirty-five standing there. She appeared to be a business woman: jacket, white blouse, blue skirt to the knees, proper business heels. Pretty, with red hair, and a smile that made Raquel feel like this was someone she could get to know. But some other time, she was. We finished dinner and sat down to watch some T.V. I was quiet through out. Mrs. Ahuja asked me if I was alright. I lied to her and told her I had a headache. She asked me if I wanted some coffee? I politely refused saying I would be fine. She turned around and ran her fingers through my hair. She started massaging my scalp with her fingers. She then took my face and asked me to put it on her shoulder as she massaged my temples. The moment she put my head on her shoulder I started. More

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