"It's not you, Darla. It's me."She walked up to him, stood inches from him, and looked up into his eyes. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss he... so much he could taste her lips on his. He felt dizzy. Her fragrances wafted to his nostrils. A hint of perfume, soap, toothpaste, shampoo, all dominated by her scent, a fragrance named Darla."What about you?" she said.He said nothing."Tell me if I'm wrong," she said. "When Pops met my mother, he made an idiotic assumption. He was poor, poorer. But she knew better. She foundered upon the bucket, too depressed to even sob. She could see all her hopes, all her aspirations, and all her silly childhood fantasies. That she might never achieve any of them now was crushing even to her resilient spirit. Thomas just sat, feeling more helpless, more apprehensive, than he had ever felt before. He could think of nothing to say. He dared not even look the girl in the eye. Abigail’s eyes sprang from the floor to the boy’s face. ‘Will you do me?’. More

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