It all started one Saturday evening when my husband, Jason, and I were taking a short vacation with our best friends, Charles and Caty Grey. We had met Charles and Caty two years previous at a small business owners’ convention and had immediately hit it off. It didn’t hurt that both sets of couples were the only small business owners at the convention who ran comic book shops. They didn’t live real close to us, but they d...

Zachary Kindholder looked up, hearing loud, dull thumping. For a moment, he didn't remember where he was - his mind was still on the half-filled page before him, in Halstead Manor - but when the thumping sounded again, he turned in his chair and looked at the door. “What in the hell…?” he muttered, standing from his typewriter. He crossed the room, angry that someone had managed to find him. He had gone through such pains...

This story is acontinuation of Boys, and Girls, and Boys Part 1 “So…what happened?” Roger looked at me, then looked down at his lunch tray. “Jack’s moving out of the dorm. Moving into his fraternity house.” “He freaked out, didn’t he?” I asked, sitting across from him. “He said it was too much for him. He liked what happened, but he couldn’t risk anyone finding out. Also, he didn’t really want to have an ongoing relations...

“But, you know, maybe I’m not cut out for this. I mean, an 85. What kind of professor will I be if I keep making 85’s on my exams?” I stared across the dinner table at my boyfriend Roger, willing him to shut up, just for a second. He had been prattling on about his damn 85 – the first ‘B’ he’d received since starting college two years ago – ever since he’d received the grade six hours earlier. We had been at this restaura...

“So, have you picked him out yet?” “I’m still weighing my options.” “We all know you’re taking Henry home. He’s your favorite. You practically humped him on the dance floor.” “What can I say? His package is huge.” I sat with my three friends, listening to them decide what poor soul they would be taking home for the evening and using wantonly. I call them ‘poor souls’ because my friends had a tendency to make these men tak...