Am I on Candid Camera? I doubt it. Allen Funt might put a girl in someone’s house, but not a naked one.I wish I had this on camera. Recorded evidence that a beautiful girl spent the night in my room would probably do wonders for my social standing, or lack thereof. No one would believe me otherwise. Except Evie, of course, but she doesn’t count.The girl stays half under my sheet, propped on one elbow, obviously still braless, and stares at me. She’s gorgeous even in the morning, with her blond hair frizzy and untamed around her face, which is pale as typing paper.“What if your mom or dad comes in?” she asks while I load my backpack for school.“They respect my space.”“What, you mean your parents ignore you too?” She laughs. “I need a toothbrush and a hairbrush. New ones, please. And coffee. I could so use a grande nonfat latte from Starbucks right now.”“What’s Starbucks?”“Good one,” she says. “Look, if we’re pretending it’s 1978, we should take your Pinto or Ford station wagon or whatever, and drive up to Seattle and see if you can invest in Starbucks coffee.”
