That evening we sat quietly on the couch together. Her face was ok, not really showing any of the marks that I'd been afraid would stay.And then Maste... Mark showed up. He was back in town now, and despite the pain it brought to me, I was almost somewhat relieved to see him. I'd answered the door because Anna had almost turned to tears when the doorbell rang. I brought him down to the living room where we had been watching TV.He greeted Anna and sat down next to her; he allowed me to sit in one. God! Fucking nerd! The all-wise ?Engisneer of the Year? wants to fucking talk.Straight raven-black hair streaked blue shielded her face as she rolled her eyes and sneered. Her father held out the brochure for her and tugged an ear bud free, ?Chelsea, we need to talk.? She glanced at the brochure petulantly and immediately felt like retching.On the cover stood three smiling, brain-dead losers in matching school uniforms with matching plaid skirts, ties, and bright red blouses. The one in the. More

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