"I'm sitting here with a pillow between my legs." Lyn murmured, "Wishing it were you." My mom's working in the next room, sewing." I said, hoping she ...ould understand how I didn't want to talk very loudly or explicitly."Well, Friday we'll probably spend enough time together to end up hating each other."I looked at the phone, as if was actually Lyn. "Never!" I said firmly. "Besides," I added, trying to cover up my sudden insecurity, "there's tomorrow."Lyn sighed loudly. "Except right after. It was this particular night that my relationship became far less formal than it had been with her mother.Since we were both already eighteen, each of us had a bit more leeway and freedom than even some of our other friends had, which included my being there even though we'd be left home alone together."Ricky, please call me Anita." She'd said. Anita was the only person who ever called me that. Even Theresa called me Rick, unless she was mad at me for one reason or another, calling me far worse. More

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