I'd killed a mountain sheep to survive and left its head in the gas station booth for safekeeping. She had taken over the booth while I was eating, sh...wering and letting my family know I was still alive. I had fashioned the fleece into a poncho and was wearing it when we met.The second time I saw her was the day Bev decided that neither of my prizes, the head or the fleece, had any place in her home. Her home happened to be my house. And since they represented my transformation from an awkward. Whoever it was wore cotton pajama shorts. I was pretty sure it was a girl since their hair smelled of strawberry shampoo. It was a higher perfume than the cheap dollar shampoo in the gallon bottle. Of course it wasn't as bold and fragrant as the spa level shampoos that had a scent strong enough to overpower the various chemicals they put in to make it do some special trick. I was pretty sure it was a girl because most boys with long hair would put it in a ponytail, not braid it. Well, that, and. More

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