“What kind of bet?”He moved his hands down her smooth legs, his eyes softening. “I want to grapple with you. I need to see what you’re capable...of. What you can actually do.”She looked at him confused, “You want to fight me?”He shook his head smiling, “No, I would never hit you. Unless it’s your plump ass of course.”She squirmed in his lap, “I’d hit you.”He brushed her hair from her face, “If you win you can hit me and then leave.”“What do you get if you win?”His smile darkened, “You.”“So you. Of course Henderson was in the news from time to time, and sometimes I would learn of the death of a classmate. I never drove the several hours to attend any funerals, but I would send a memorial contribution from time to time.Then fate stepped in, and it was because I, like my dad, and like his fellow teacher and onetime bowling friend, Mr Tallman, had taken up bowling and bowled on two teams in fall leagues."Kent, you are from Henderson, aren't you?" asked one of my team bowlers, like the. More

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