Isabelle, however, was intelligent and, I guessed, uncomfortable with her friends’ attitudes and actions. She had wavy brown hair with a tall, lithe...body shape. Isabelle was similarly dressed in tiny denim shorts, knee high socks and a black, mesh-backed, short sleeve shirt. She wore it uncomfortably, as though it wasn’t her choice of outfit – I suspected her friends dressed her. It suited her, nonetheless, and I couldn’t keep my eyes from drifting over her. My mind trailed away for a second at. "I dunno, Dad. I like her and all and I want to go. Her country and culture are so neat. Not neat, like cool, but like, tidy, you know. It's so old, too. Everything and everyone has a place and reason but at the same time it's an exciting time of change there. I, I really want to learn more about it and, if I can, help them. I guess I'd maybe even want to be a part of it somehow. But, it scares me that I want to be a part of it so much. I hope she's not mad at me for the way I talked to her,. More

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