"The screws are starting to rust," I said. "How bad is your spasm?"Nancy chuckled. "Need any WD40 for your screws?" Sure, if you have some spares. How...s your back?" Well," Nancy sighed. "Still hurts when I bend. I'm now off the roster for at least two weeks."I didn't know why I started painting a mental picture of Nancy bending in front of me in her cheerleader outfit. It was nice that she wasn't wearing a short skirt, or I'd begin developing the Nancy Hunters syndrome. In fact, her jeans. I avoided eye contact and scrolled my phone. I knew it was a bit rude but I was curious about how she managed to live in the small car that was apparently full of belongings.I watched out of the corner of her eye as she opened her glovebox and pulled out a bottle of water, a well-worn toothbrush, and a mangled tube of toothpaste. She began to diligently brush. She popped open her driver's door and rinsed and spit. She looked up apologetically when she realized I was still there. I. More

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