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The karate master flashed forward suddenly, and brought a spinning backfist down into Becky’s right arm, where the deltoids met the triceps. I had seen that move in kung-fu movies. It was supposed to cripple an opponent’s arm, or at least make it useless for fighting. But of course Becky Finklestein was no ordinary opponent. The force of the punch was so great that it knocked Ernesto off his feet as his hand bounced uselessly off of the ten year old’s bloated musculature. Becky didn’t even blink. “That’s one,” she chirped. “You pwobably don’t want to hit my arms. They’re really stwong. See?”Then Becky curled her arms up into a double biceps pose. The sleeves of the Underoos, already straining to find a safe place between her biceps and shoulders, split instantly as her enormous, freckled arms erupted into terrifyingly perfect muscle shapes. Gloria gasped in disbelief and covered her mouth. “Oops,” Becky giggled tauntingly as she squeezed another inch of mass out her impossibly. The priest was kind. Said it was a crush,and not really sexual, not gay at all, and that I shouldn't worry about it.But I couldn't quit thinking him. I started wondering what he looked likenaked. Started enjoying when he would wear a shirt open at the collar, andI could see the hair bushing out. Wishing he had been my Dad, andwondering if he thought I was less of a guy because my chest is completelysmooth. Then one night, I beat off thinking about his chest. Wonderingwhat it looked like. I couldn't believe how far I shot. It was such aturn on. And I felt so guilty that night, I could hardly sleep. I went to confession again the next day. Told the priesteverything about the night before. He listened, and looked kind of sad. I went over some kind of edge the next week. I was at the mall.Went into a restroom to piss, and a guy was in there. I did a double take-- I thought it was Mike's Dad. Then I realized immediately it wasn't him,after I'd said hello. The guy didn't.
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Even though we had spent the night basically sitting up, she still looked beautiful. At least to me."Can't I get a cup of coffee first?" There's a line for that, too."Melanie rolled her pretty brown eyes. "Give me the bad news first." The earliest we're gonna get out of here is tomorrow." I picked up my laptop bag and backpack. She pulled on the handle of her carry-on suitcase and rolled it along as we headed back to the main part of the concourse."Dammit!" she kindly refrained from using some of the many choice words I knew she wanted to blurt out. From what I remembered about Melanie, despite her appearance as a petite, well-mannered young woman, her favourite curse word was twelve letters long, started with M and ended in R. "I thought it was supposed to clear up today." It is supposed to clear up later today, but that's not the problem," I pointed to the TV that was showing a radar map on The Weather Channel. "See all that white? From Bismark to Pittsburgh? That's the problem..

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