I dress better than I need to on Sunday morning’s at 8:30, putting a little extra effort into my outfit. I make an effort, and I think he notices. I...think he knows I’m dressing for him. When we walk into the cafe, he always looks my way, and I see him memorizing the way I look, as if storing up my image for later use. At least, I hope that’s what he’s doing.Sometimes, I imagine what I might say if we were to find each other all alone together. Maybe back by the payphones near the two tiny. But myson Antoine has only a meager rear end."I nodded and snickered as I knew Nicole would in my place and sawWinnie nod at me saluting my wise response. But it certainly felt oddto be praised to no end for the girl that I now was and didn't want tobe but snickered at for the boy I wanted to return to being. Anotherconfusing moment.Still, though they all said I was beautiful, that did not stop themfrom changing my appearance. The woman, Beatrice, plucked my not verythick eyebrows into two. More

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