I pull myself upright and, remembering what happened in my room that day last moth, I put my arms around him. He buries his face into my shoulder and ... nestle my face and nose into all that ruffled hair of his. I breathe deeply, Simon smells gorgeous. Of shampoo, a lemony smell but there's something else there too, an undercurrent. He's not crying, just sitting…hugging me. His long arms wrapped around my chest and back. “Are you okay?” I ask him, tentatively. Nothing, just a sharp pain as his. Finally I used the eye dropper to squirt in 6 ounces of water and waited a few moments for it to evenly soak the sand.Now it was time to get the ants into the farm. According to the directions, the mail-order ants would come in a plastic tube that would fit into the top hole and transfer the ants without letting them escape. I had no such thing handy, but I suddenly remembered a magic trick I had seen on TV where the magician rolled up a newspaper into a funnel and used it to pour a pitcher of. More

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