There wasn't anything for him to say, either.He'd been called both proud and pretty before. Both were frequently epithets. He could deny neither. When...he looked in a mirror, he saw only the boy he'd always been. But, he knew people were drawn to him. Too many of the school's older boys had tried to coerce, cajole, or even force him to touch them and needed to be beaten bloody before they saw the error of their ways.The charge of pride confused him even more than accusations of beauty. People. One nearby apparatus, the purpose of which was not immediately obvious tome, was a leather-padded chair with a prominent oval hole in its seat.Directly underneath was a black enameled plumbing fixture that lookedlike a shallower version of the sinks I had seen in ladies' hair salonswith an curved indentation to support the back of the customer's neckduring a shampoo. The shallow sink had a drain in its bottom. A longleather floor cushion extended away from the front of the chair withblack. More

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