atthisditioneculiartothefemalespecies,Ipulleddownmyshorts,andalookofhorroranddismaycrossedherface.Shegaspedandputherhandinfrontofhermouth.Ilookeddownandthenlookedbackupather,deeplyperplexed.

    "OhmyGod,Henry,"shesaid,"youlooklikealittleboy."

    Icoveredup.

    "ThatsthesmallestoneIveeverseen."

    Iangrilyretrievedmyclothesfromthefloor.

    "Imsorrybutyoulooklikemyeight-year-oldcousin."Sallybegantopickupherclothesoffthefloor."Henry,dontbemad."

    ButIwasmad,notsomuchatherasatmyself.IknewfromthemomentshespokewhatIhadfotten.Inmostrespects,Iappearedalloffifteen,butIhadedohemoreimportantparts.AsIdressed,humiliated,Ithoughtofallthepainandsufferingofthepastfewyears.ThebabyteethIwreofmymouth,thestretgandpullingandpushingofbonesandmusdskintogrowintoadolesce.ButIhadfottenaboutpuberty.Shepleadedwithmetostay,apologizedfhingatme,evensayingatonepointthatsizedidntmatter,thatitwasactuallykindofcute,butnothingshecouldhavesaidordonewouldhaverelievedmyshame.Ineverspoketain,exceptforthemostbasicgreetings.Shedisappearedfrommylife,asifstolenaway,andIwondernowifsheeverfavemeotthatafternoon.

    Stretgremediedmysituation,buttheexercisepainedmeandcauseduedsequehefirstwasthecurioussensationthattypicallyehesamemessyway,but,moreiingly,IfoundthatbyimaginingSallyoranyotheralluringthing,theresultswereafoneclusion.Butthinkingonunpleasantthings—theforest,baseball,arpeggios—Icouldpostpone,oravoidaltogether,thede.Thesedouteissomewhatmo