“Maybe you should tell me yourself, in your own words.” “It wasn’t my fault!” I protest. “Jimmy Porter said if I didn’t let him kiss me,...he’d say he’d seen me buying fags…cigarettes…from Patel’s on my way home. And even if I was, they were for my dad.”“So you were kissing Jimmy Porter, is that it?”“Yes Sir.” “Is that all?”“Yes Sir.”“Hm. That’s not quite what Miss Primrose told me.”He picks up a piece of paper from his desk, and looks at me again, before reading from it.“Porter’s trousers were. The dreams seemed to be growing more frequent and intense as the day of the test grew closer. The ever-more-mysterious Antheia had called the day before, 'just to say hi' and to encourage him with reminders that all he need do was keep focused on being Ed and it would all turn out fine. He hoped so. He didn't have enough reference on the old ways, despite his childhood attentiveness to the Escalante's instructions.Where is this leading me? Why me? What does it all mean?Ed's waking thoughts were. More

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