e<br >Chapter One: Grab, Twist and Pull<br >When I was thirteen, I entered Martin Luther King Junior<br >High School with two things to look forward to. The first<br >was sex education, the only class my older brother before<br >me had excelled in, and the second was sex.<br > Before long, a third element made the list. Her name was<br >Betsy Murphy.<br > Betsy was an attractive girl in a mature sort of way.<br >She had probably the most developed social graces of any<br >girl in the eighth grade . . .<br > " ... and definitely the most developed body, " Phil added.<br > "I was getting to that," Dave said. He shook his head and typed<br >away.<br >. ~ . and definitely the most developed body. To my new<br >classmates and me she was all woman, and we freely<br >speculated on the range of her experience in the ways of<br >men, love and dark closets (though not necessarily in that<br >order).<br >J<br ><br >
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