At one point I looked at Shirley and saw her finger making a line from her neck, down to the center of her chest and back up the other side. I smiled,...knowing she was pointing to where the locket was resting against her bare skin, under her sweater.I played like shit! At first I blamed my poor play on the uneven surface of the court we were on. It was old concrete that had cracked over the years. The ball took erratic hops and tripping on a crack was always a possibility. The cracks presented. He looked down at me, ‘Could it be possible these still are mine?’ And I looked up at him, ‘They never stopped being yours, I never did.’ He dropped his chin and his lips met mine, and I felt myself fall to pieces from the inside out. Luckily, his hands found my ribs and held me together, and I held fast to the lapel of his jacket. He kissed me firmly, and I pressed back. It was as if we couldn’t get enough, I wanted to take in as much of him as I could. And when his hands found their way to. More

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