“Come in.” she called. When the door opened she was surprised to see who was standing there. Rachel, her shoulder length red hair clean and combed... dressed in a white shirt and black jeans. She looked like a different person than the scruffy girl who had turned up at the house. She had been so clearly miserable, now she looked calm and confident. “I wanted to see you, to know how you are.” Rachel said after a long silence. She stood in the door way, not quite ready to come in. The older teen. “Do you really want to hear me play?” “Yes,” I said. “I . . .” “Nice boner.” “Thank you,” I managed. “I’m quite proud of it.” “Does classical music always make you hard?” “No, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear it. It’s not my fault you have . . .” “Boobs?” “I w-wasn’t g-going to say that,” I stammered under her gaze “A pussy?” “Those eyes,” I blurted. “You have amazing eyes. They’re hard to look at, but I can’t look away.” The eyes in question widened. “Okay,” she said after. More

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