![]() Instead he said, “Nice asterisks, Slick.” (Darryl had randomly selected “Slick” from a list of diminutions that included “Buddy,” “Chief” and “Sport.”) Kyle blinked and let go of Darryl’s thumb. He wanted to yank Kyle’s horny, pimpled little heart out of his chest and shake it at him before cramming it down his throat. By the time he took hold of Darryl’s thumb and said, “’Sup, dude,” Darryl hated him thoroughly. His hair looked casually windblown, an illusion spoiled by the mousse holding it in place. Kyle wore temporarily indecent board shorts and a T-shirt with “F**K**U” printed across the front. They found her locked in her dorm room-dressed, but flushed and disheveled-with a scrawny wannabe surfer named Kyle. ![]() In October Darryl and Cheryl drove from Argyle, North Carolina, all the way to Wilmington, nearly eight hours, to surprise their daughter, Misti, who was a freshman at the university there, on her nineteenth birthday.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |