"Neither of them felt like coffee anymore and just remained sitting on the bench. Jake blew off his afternoon classes and rode home with Lesa looking for a quiet evening. He really needed to think things through.Janet was sitting on her bed in the dark when Misty opened the door around five. Misty reached for the light, but left it off and just dropped everything she was carrying onto the floor.She climbed into the bed with Janet and embraced her, "What's going on, girl?"Janet shrugged, "I'm not sure. Things are changing and can change a lot more. I know how I feel about you. I think I know how I feel about Ralph. The problem is that I'm okay with him having sex with Leslie. I'm probably okay with him have sex with most anyone else. Is that normal? Does it mean I don't really care about him deep down?"Misty didn't understand why Janet would be confused, "What difference does it make who he fucks as long has he has time for us and doesn't bring a little hitchhiker home with him. If I. The gruesome man beat me, slapped me, kicked me, spat at me, vituperated. When he tired of this, I was thrown into a cell deep beneath the castle in a murky, dripping dungeon, shoved a piece of mouldy bread and left to rot. For days, how many in that darkness I know not, I lived on tears. I raged, I shouted, I threatened, then I would relent, plead, apologize, promise to live contritely and to bear Monsieur beautiful children if only my Cordelia might be spared. One night I was awakened by a familiar voice. It was my father opening the door of my cell. News of my calamity had reached our village and my father, doubtless feeling guilty, had hurried here to save me and succeeded in bribing a guard. Monsieur was trumping up charges of witchcraft, using my tribadism as evidence to convince the elders of the town to burn me. This was my only chance at life. I would be hidden away in a nunnery, to live a life of fasting prayer and devotion. On no account could I ever see Cordelia again. We.
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