081413 #worm Him is home with his girlfriend Dekna. Me had a girlfriend once--her name was Warra. It didn't last. Me felt her breast, once, on a long bus trip back from somewhere, but he was too slow to follow up. Warra got--bored? Disappointed? Offended, even? and hiked up her skirt to faster pastures. When Me cried in the bathroom about it, it wasn't so much because he'd lost her, as because he'd lost an opportunity to be in the game. There's no problem like that with Dekna. Me gets to bask in her warm aura any time he hangs around with Him and her. Me gets to feel vicarious tingles when his friend and Dekna touch and tease. And then Me gets to go home. Later he'll hear all the stuff about Dekna that Him would never tell Dekna herself. They'll be lying face down on Me's trampoline, in his boxy backyard under a tree so ancient it looks out of place in this comfortable neighborhood. Does she have hair between her legs? Me will ask; just razor stubble, Him will answer. She's really good at making out, Him will add, and to tell the truth, Me's not exactly sure what Him means by that. It could be a little, or it could be a lot. Either way, the electricity of Dekna, stored and amplified in Him's brashly questioning body and in Me's infinitely spying mind, flows between them.