”“I didn’t know Rachel had any friends,” I said, tactfully sitting down next to Lucy, “she’s always calling me from ASU and telling me how...lonely she is. Do you go to ASU?” “I’m done with school, actually,” Lucy said, “can I smoke in here?”“Sure.”Lucy took out a pack of Marlboro Reds, which surprised me. Most girls who smoke, don’t smoke something that harsh. Lucy was a bad, bad little devil; I was betting on anal. She flicked her thumb up and a flame shot from the tip. I raised my eyebrows at. I wasn't like the others and I really never had been. I was, of course, even less like them at that moment.When I never really liked playing with dolls as a child, I probably should have known then that I was different. I was different even though I had the almost idyllic Saturday Evening Post family life. I had a hard working masculine father figure, who worked two jobs so that his wife could raise three kids.He was the kind of man that in the back of her mind every little girl and young woman. More

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