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Show house/. 380 My mouth tightened. "Believe everything they say. It's probably true. My father was right." He shook his head. "You're just confused. I can see that. I don't know what your father's problem is." "Brian ... some of the things I've done... I've gone with one guy after another ... let them do things....I tried to convince myself that I cared for them. But I was lying to myself - and that's the worst kind of lying." "I don't think I want to hear anymore about it," he said abruptly. "I guess I'd like to take a roll in the hay with you as much as they would. But not without making it right first." I suddenly felt frightened. "I...I don't think we should be saying these things to each other. Do you realize that I've told you all my secrets? Most of them," I added, remembering the rape. I had vowed to myself that I would never reveal that humiliation. He didn't say anything and we drove in silence, looking at the Christmas lights. "I...I'm sorry," he said at last. I turned away from the window and stared at him. "Sorry? For what?" "For talking so much. I've never told anyone all these things. In fact, I hardly talk about myself at all." "Why did you talk to me, then?" "It...seemed right. Like I'd been waiting all my life to talk to you." I flushed, pleased. "I'm flattered." |