I got back to school, and, wonder of wonders, I got noticed. By boys, even. I guess it's true-it's all in the boobs. Well, not being a runt didn't hur.... 5'5" wasn't bad. And, though I'd never be model-skinny, at least I was proportional for a change. I felt good. That was new.What wasn't new, much to my chagrin, was the boy who wasn't noticing me-Riley McConnell. Boys I didn't know were passing me by with an "I love your hair" or a "You look really good this year." From Riley, I got nothing.And. Lyle sits alone in his apartment as a wisp of cigarette smoke curls from his hand in the darkening light. Outside, the city is beginning to come alive as the annual Jazz festival gets under way, but in the apartment, amongst the deep shadows around the single armchair, Lyle sits motionless.He listens to the thumping beats and squealing saxophones which echo in the distance with a mind consumed with sexual longing. Even the rain is erotic in Lyle’s head. Droplets run together on the cold glass. More

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