Shelly was there with her date, you know the kind, football jock, Mr. Handsome, full of himself and not afraid to tell everyone he met that he was the...best. As for me, I was there with my usual date, myself.I loved to go to these dances to listen to the music, but never brought a date or even danced when I had a chance. I could talk to girls, but was never comfortable around them. Shelly's boy friend was half drunk when they arrived and he had been sneaking drinks from a bottle all evening.. A marble statue with one hell of a mouth. There was a sigh. ‘If you’re busy.’ It wasn’t a finished sentence. It was supposed to make my insides twist into knots and make me feel like a guilty, selfish bastard. It worked. ‘Patrick . . . it’s just . . . late night.’ ‘Oh.’ He knew what ‘late night’ meant. He hung up. II. I was sitting on one side of the couch. He was sitting on the other. We hadn’t said anything since he showed up thirty minutes before. He was angry and I was hoping that maybe if. More

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