" God how I loved trains . . . and the gangs like mine that rode them! ___-----___ Zak, my darkhaired friend, stood there in his tattered old moth-...aten blue windbreaker jacket. He stood there with a bottle of beer and looked up through the metal mesh mezak above our heads and watched the lights go by. His black slacks fluttered about and over his black boots in the strong breeze that passed through the L section. "Derrik," he said to me. "I was thinking about what you said." "About the. I just never had a mom to cook me an omelet before, that's all. I'm just... I should have been looking at you. I'm sorry," I stammered. "Uh, look, Adam, I know things yesterday didn't go so well. I think we should talk about it." Not here," he whispered."Why not?" I asked."Because my mom is here," Adam whispered, somewhat perturbed."What? You don't share your sex life with your mom?" I asked. By then, Cynthia was serving me the omelet and Adam turned ten shades of pink."Oh, I wish I'd known. More

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