’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen. She took a shower after a particularly harsh volleyball debacle only to find that her locker had been picked and her outfit of the day, gray sweatpants and a shapeless pink sweater, were gone. “The ones Cariolus did for me. I can’t love you. If you don’t like it, I won’t be mad, I promise. She had become unashamed of her nudity, altogether unfocused on her appearance. Sometimes a whole morning would pass without Spurlock uttering a word beyond the request for a drink of water. The man’s as obstinate as a mule.
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