I reached back to unzip my mother’s dress. What I was about to do hit me like an electric shock. My mother did exactly this. She did it for nothing....I wanted revenge. I wanted Harold on his knees, wailing. Anger drove me as much as desire. I would do it, but for a damn site more than my mother ever did. I would enjoy it.My dress slipped off my shoulders and I pulled it down over my breasts. I had a moment of vertigo standing there in front of two men in lacy black underwear. I’d wiped that. I opened the doors myself and climbed out, got my books from the cab, and walked on down the road before he could get dressed enough to follow. I reckon I knew I'd done good, and it was time to quit. After a while, he slowed the bread truck alongside me, leaning out to speak. "You come this way often?" "Every schoolday," I told him. "But . . . it'll cost you a quarter every time." He nodded, and laughed, and then his face got serious. "You mustn't tell anybody, since you're so young. If. More

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