"Bad breath," she said, protecting me from her breath with an upraised hand."I don't care," I told her, moving to kiss her lips again."I know it's bad..." she said. "I can't. Please don't kiss me." Can I kiss your breasts?" I haven't had a shower." You took a shower when we got back from the tournament." But then we went out again. That was hours ago!" She was talking to me directly now, from close range, and she had forgotten about the protective hand at her mouth.Her breath really was a little. Photos of her and I at carnivals and camp-outs flashed through my mind and I thought about the special little way she always rolled her eyes whenever Id do or say something spiked with innuendo. Looking out the car window I thought of her dark eyes and the sound of her laughter, things about her I never fully appreciated until now. We drove through the construction zone on 8th avenue and continued onward away from the city, classical music whispering softly through the sound system and the. More

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