”I stopped. “I’m judgmental?” I asked with a slight chuckle. “Me? The one boy in town who couldn’t take two paces without having done ten things wrong? I’m judgmental?”She looked away. “I knew you would take it that way.” She turned for the door again.I grabbed her arm and turned her around to look at me. “Answer my question, Faith,” I said, quietly, and surprisingly calmly.She stared at me with a touch of fear for a second. “It was Anna.”“Anna?” I asked. I hoped it wasn’t the Anna I was thinking of.Faith nodded. “Anna Begley. She was the first person to suggest Dad might have been having an affair.”I let Faith go and turned to pace. Anna Begley was the worst kind of person, at least in my opinion. She enjoyed suggesting the worst things about other people. For me, she was one of the first people I heard verbally suggest I would have raped Lisa Hartwell if Ms. Langston hadn’t nipped my evil thoughts in the bud. She didn’t need proof of any accusation, simply her wild imagination, and. "It doesn't feel good," said the little out, pouting."What doesn't?"She looked uncomfortable. "Oh, I guess it's all better," she said suddenly."No, who's chicken now!" said the bigger one. "It's up there, under her dress, she says." Kate!" hissed the younger one."Chicken!" said big sister, giggling at the younger one's embarrassment.The proper thing to do was to excuse myself and leave. But I figured I'd be happy to play along with their game, whatever it was. What was up under a girl's dress? Just panties. Cloth. You see girls' thighs in all their glory when they wear shorts, and the view goes all the way up to their crotch when they're in bathing suits. And what if she really did have some medical problem?"I'm willing to look," I said calmly.Reassured, the little one lifted her dress slowly -- or at least it seemed to take a long time. But her converging thigh flesh did not end in the expected patch of cloth that maintains modesty. It ended in a bare pair of cute little girl.
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