” “I HATE JEWISH GIRLS! THEY’RE ALL LIKE YOU!” “May God wash your mouth out with a bar of Fels-Naptha,” his mother said in reverential tones. In a way I was an audience, in a way I wasn't there at all. Valentina slid her tiny hand down his waist, to the hips of his white leather pants, and that tore another scream from Stephen's throat. It was hard to explain, because touching him didn't make me think of sex.
I gave him raised eyebrows. It burns and grows and destroys, not because it needs fuel but because that's what it does, what it is. I started to roll over, I think to ask who it was, when I realized I was naked. Simply holding each other, the feel of bare skin and warmth, like a grown-up version of a teddy bear.
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