I was sixteen. But a very inexperienced sixteen. Not even a feel of a girl's breast. The particular night in question, it was during the summer and af...er playing some computer games and watching TV, Gordon and I went off to bed. As I said, I had my own room at Gordie's and was soon drifting off to sleep. It had begun to rain softly, one of those summer rains that start slowly, then can pick up rather quickly. I heard footsteps in the hallway, then my door opened and Mrs. Foster came in and went. “You might think about talking to her,” Mark said.Dexter said, “What in the hell for? She texted me that she wanted a divorce. I file for one and she changes her mind. What in the hell kind of crap is that?”“I think that might be the reason you need to talk to her,” Mark said.“I don’t want to talk to her,” Dexter said.He knew that he sounded like a petulant child, but his feelings were still hurt. He wasn’t even sure how he would react to seeing her. Part of him wanted to cry and part of him. More

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