Maybe a bit more. We were both dirty blond,athletic and sex-hungry. HB was called Brian Wermeier, probably still is, Iwas called Dean Wilson, still am...Wermeier, let's call him Brian, captained and soccer team. I was the goalkeeper. I suppose by British standards we were crap. We played local pubteams, which sort of evened things out. They were fat and skilled; we werefit and unskilled.Brian took things seriously. Training after school three times a week. Heand I got into the habit of staying on. ‘Did you see that? You had to have!’ ‘What did you see?’ Sage dropped her voice, listening to the silence. ‘I don’t fucking know! Can we please go back the way we came? We can take the bus back to my house.’ Sage ignored her sister’s request. She took slow steps backwards, looking everywhere. Some one was watching them. She could feel eyes on her. More than one pair. The adrenaline in her blood kicked up double time, and a smile spread on her lips. She needed this. Arguing with her sister had. More

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