His eyes were locked on mine and I momentarily looked away from him to glance into the large mirrored sliding closet door and I saw just what I looked...like to him. I almost looked like I do when I go to the beach. I was wearing a yellow micro bikini and my tanned skin looked like it was glistening from suntan oil. The only difference was that it wasn’t suntanning oil, it was perspiration and only some of it was mine. When I looked back at him his eyes had slightly shifted down. I knew what he. Growing up, it was usually just me andmom. I had friends in school, but I never really got to do much with mybrother owing to our age difference. There were times I heard one orboth of my parents ask him to let me hang out with him, pal around withhim, do things with him, but he would usually, and rightly, beg off byreminding them that there was nothing he was doing that I couldphysically keep up with, at every age. He was right. But there weretimes when he and I played games, inside. . More

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