"You can't make me, you can't make me..." Well what are you going to do with the rest of your life?" I countered. The bliss of the marijuana high was ...dging into paranoid, defensive territory. "Not much future in professional apathy." I," Andrea said proudly, "am going to be a poet." Bullshit," I said. "You spend a summer reading Sylvia Plath and all of a sudden you're an oppressed soul who needs to express herself through art?"Andrea pouted. "You're crushing my dreams John. Crushing them!" You. First thing is you two can't ever tell anyone, ever."Dianne started to nod. Joan's face lit up like someone had just taken ahuge weight off her shoulders, she smiled and joined in the nodding.They next day I didn't want to get up and stayed in bed until about 11.While I was in the shower Joan laid out some of her clothes on my bed.Dark green Capris and a fitted brick red tee with black trim. I starredat them for a while before putting them on. I skipped the makeup thatmorning. Joan was. More

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