I was walking out of my last class when Camille grabbed my arm. "We need to talk," she said."Sure," I replied, moving out of the traffic flow. "What d... you want to talk about?" You," she said. "What is up with you?" What do you mean?" I asked innocently."I heard about you in the shower, and the little play you put on in the locker room, and there are some nasty rumors about you going around," she said. "That is not the Rachel I know. What is going on?"Camille was a good friend of mine, and. The cheeseburgers had been massive, overcooked, and inordinately greasy; in a word, wonderful. The beer was, as Madeleine had specified, domestic, and a bit warm for Sam's taste. While it wasn't cheap, it tasted cheap. "All they need," Sam remarked, "is a stripper." Be patient," Madeleine answered, gesturing toward a nearby table. "I think there are some talented amateurs in our immediate vicinity."Sure enough, Sam turned to see a buxom, Latin-looking brunette in a peasant blouse, seated with. More

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