“She asked me to give this to you.” I opened the piece of paper; there was a single telephone number written on it. “Is this her telephone numbe...?” I asked, knowing full well that it was. “I guess so,” was Sarah’s response. “Go ahead and call her. I’m sure she’d fuck you any time you wanted.” Her sarcasm was palpable. I slid the paper in front of Sarah. “No,” I said. “She’s your friend, not mine. I’m not calling her. If you want me to fuck her, then you bring her over here again and I’ll enjoy. It wasn't much, but it was mine and private. The privacy means a lot to a teenager, so I didn't mind.I had a double bed in the middle of my room that I could sprawl on to masturbate, or entertain my friends. Mom was my alarm clock on school mornings or when I had to get up before ten AM. She would make two to four trips to my room in an attempt to awaken me. She was dressed in a thin, translucent night shirt for pajamas with a terry cloth robe over the top. Each time she would call me louder. I. More

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