“You must be one of the new freshmen. I just love fresh meat.”“Maggie Meredith,” she acknowledged. She took the proffered quarter and set up t...e next game.Calling her shots, Trish wiped Maggie out in a straight run of nine balls. Staring wide-eyed, Maggie fished out another quarter and butted ahead of the line. The manager inexplicably allowed the rematch and smiled when Jan took Trish’s cue stick. Once again, Maggie was routed, nine straight.“You’ve just been had, kid,” the manager laughed.. She wasn't makeup-and-clothes-obsessed, she wasn't a mouthy brat, she wasn't an angst-ridden teenager, she just was who she was. Her hair was a shade of red you could never bottle. Her eyes were hazel, my favorite eye-color on a woman, always swirling with emotions and mystery. She liked the same music as me, the same literature, the same sports (actually she only liked two sports, but they are my two favorite sports). I'll even admit that I would sometimes try to get a look down her top. Her. Simply because it wascompletely different than anything I ever experienced before. Maybe thefeeling of helplessness and the humiliation was the driving force. I wentback to my papers .I went out with a friend and came in late Saturday night but he was stillnot in. I did not see him until Sunday morning when I saw him go into thebathroom. I rehearsed, no I memorized what I wanted to say to him."Listen, Chuma. I am the owner of this house. I am a respected professor atthe University. You are a. Wrong...All Wrong!" Freddy had to add for emphasis. I blinkedmy baby blue eyes at Freddy in flirty romantic agreement. A flirtysmile of agreement too, my long lashes flexing too feline sweet becausemy forbidden lover was so wise about such things.Freddy knew about stuff, like my bedroom tiger had a gift. He usuallyheld a real edge over just about anybody else. When he spoke about allkinds of things, others listened. He always sounded true too - evenwhen I used to tease and heckle him in.
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