I have no memory of any of it. I just woke up a total mess. I staggered into the shower to get rid of the filth. It was fine for the outside of my bod... but my stomach still ached. When I came out of the shower, Sidney took hers. When she came out of the shower, we held each other and cried."Should we call the police? Were we drugged? Were we raped, maybe both? We didn't know. If we called the police, who would we blame? We didn't know who or even how many. All we knew was that it hurt. It may. I really didn't fault Emmy's parents, all that much, for wanting something better for her. After all, essentially, I shared their view that Emmy was special. She deserved the best. If Emmy's father, The Undersecretary, was going to look askance at Baseball Boy from Some-Indian-Word, Ohio, well, I found that understandable.I really did! Maybe I was some sort of self-hating Virtual Snob myself. At the very least, I seemed to be a snob-sympathizer.I knew, though, that Emmy insisted that I must. More

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