I had committed to attending it with Harriet Simonson. I had known Harriet all through grade school. She had been in some of my mother's dance classes...with me. She was about five three, with darker blond hair which she wore about halfway down her back, usually in a ponytail. She had regular facial features, but her eyes were a little bit narrow and always looked pinched, like she was squinting or something. She was built along the lines of Clara, except that she had breasts, and weighed. "That makes one of us," he said, taking another pull from his bottle."You can't possibly still be upset about the whopping I gave you back in high school. That was over ten years ago," she reminded him."Hate is a hard emotion to overcome," he replied."You hate me?" she asked."I would have thought it would be obvious, oh, and while we are on the subject, twelve strokes of your cane across my barely covered ass, is hardly what any normal person would consider your average school punishment. You. More

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