"I guess… this passage was about the writer saying that being happy because of addictive stuff like d**gs, booze, or… sex isn't actually happiness... It's indulging a desire, and that it goes away really fast." That's actually a really solid answer," he said, absent-mindedly touching her knee with a congratulatory pat before he realized what he'd done. "So what else can we draw from that then? What is happiness, then, to the writer here?" He says he believes stuff like loss and pain are the keys. "Better talk to your mom," I said. "I don't want her to be mad at me." I'm sure I will be talking with her as soon as you leave," she giggled.I left the house, got in my car, and drove home. As soon I hit my bed, it took about ten strokes to cover my belly with the huge load I had struggled to hold in.*On Monday Joanie was waiting by my locker at lunch break."Hi," she said sheepishly. "Can we talk for a minute?" Of course," I replied.She sucked on her lower lip and looked around before speaking. More

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