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Saturday things changed but not in a bad way. I was planning on tasting Miss Claxton's tea, and my own too as I played her recorder.

When I arrived, Miss Claxton was dressed for tea, but Mr. Volinsky my literature teacher and my Madam Fonteneau grandfather was also there.

"Miss Miles, I've been telling Mr. Volinsky what a remarkable young woman you are."

I could not have turned any brighter red. "Ummmm, I thought . . ." I have no idea what Miss Claxton might have told him.

"It's okay, Miss Miles. Mr. Volinsky and I have been friends a long time."

I hadn't been friends with Mr. Volinsky for a long time. I rarely saw him outside of class.

"Miss Miles would you like to tell Mr. Volinsky what I like about you? Or would you rather I tell him?"

I got redder, if that was possible.

"Okay, I'll tell him. Mr. Volinsky, first of all she has the most perfect breasts. I love touching them, kissing them." ...

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