The Journal of Darin TaylorChapter 7
During the weeks that followed I carved a few more notches in my handle with the girls at school, bidding my time and letting our conversation work on Mom. Of course I gave her some looks which I could tell were unnerving her a bit and once when she and I were playing football with some other kids from the neighborhood, I tackled her (sort of). We fell to the ground laughing, but as she turned over to get up our faces ended up only inches apart. I deliberately held her helpless by letting my...