“
Oh, hi,” I called up, smiling stiffly. “Gee, that’s a good record you’re playing. I’m really enjoying it.” Already I could see the three of us walking home from school together, me lending them my 45s. “‘That’s a good record you’re playing. I’m really enjoying it,’” Rosalie mimicked back. Both girls brayed like donkeys. “What’s your name?” Stacia shouted down. “Dolores.” It came out shaky, like a request. “Oh,” she said. “I thought it was Fucky Face.” Her sister squealed in horrified delight, pulling off a candy wrapper with her teeth and spitting it over the rail at me.
”
”