I'm sure I have a genuine Southern accent too, like Mr. Reiser and everyone else I knew, but only someone old could talk like Mercy did and it sounded...like music to me. Very melodic and not hard or harsh, but every syllable delivered in its own patient time. A sound that caught the ear and made you stop everything else you were doing, just for a second, and listen to it. I swear, of everything I might say about Mercy, like how she was not so tall and not so pretty as I imagine she'd once been,. I was precariously close to his cheeks, arms around his shoulder, and just couldnt take the next step. I let go and just kept staring at the falling sun. Colt didnt even notice. The next day, we essentially put ourselves into that same scenario. The only difference being, something actually happened. I was leaning in on Colt and just stared at his awkward, lanky freshman frame. His bronzed skin had me all dizzy and confused. The shorts werent helping me control myself. He was a swimmer, the. More

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