We lay on the bed all sweaty , as there was no electricity that day , and thus no fan to cool our desires. His hand was over my thigh and I started to...sob. Hearing me he said “Its ok …. don’t cry I love you and this will be our little secret…. Bhabi doesn’t need to ,no one has to know ” (to think that I’m sharing my secret now… but this was eating me on the inside ). And like all men he was clueless , I wasn’t crying because he had a wife and kids , I was crying for the fact that I wanted him. He only knew me asMary, but we had been good friends since I was 10 and he was 12. Iguess I was the kid sister he had never had. Every summer, we went withGran or his aunt to Six Flags or to baseball games or movies. Onereason we got along so well is that we were both rabid Dallas Cowboyfans. He said that he had never met another kid, boy or girl, who knewso much about the Cowboys. (Unfortunately, this summer's Cowboysdiscussions were going to be no different than the others. Michael andI. More

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