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When someone comes looking for that kind of help, we sit down and decide together. If someone says they aren’t comfortable with it, then the answer is ‘no’. We’re unanimous or we refuse.”“How often do you vote?” she asked.“Whenever someone asks to join one or all of us,” I told her. “We had a vote this week and the answer was ‘no’. It depends on the person, what they want and why they’re asking.”She nodded and handed me a card. “I hope you’ll consider working with us to get word out to some of the other schools,” she said. “It would really help get the message across.”“Ma’am, I’m pretty busy most days. I take all my courses here, I take twenty university courses, I’m enrolled in Kung Fu and dance classes, I run my own cheer team, hold together support for those girls, keep eight girlfriends happy, tutor high school and university students and I’m training for a fund-raiser to support the children’s cancer wing of the hospital this spring. I’m JUST finishing up my physical therapy. My parent's haven't even seen me like that since the surgery almost ayear ago. So do you want me to just drop my clothes here in the livingroom? Your parent's are due home soon aren't they?"She shook her head. "No, Dad is at some engineering conference in Seattlefor the weekend and won't be back till Tuesday. Mom is pulling a double,one of the ER nurses got her to cover for her, so she won't be home tillafter 11. C'mon and we can go to my room okay?" She gently grabbed myhand and led me upstairs.My heart was racing as we got to her room, she closed the door and lockedit. "I guess no time like the present," I muttered, and proceeded to takeoff my sweatshirt and grimaced from the discomfort from my bound chest. Icould see the concern on her face but I continued. I pulled off my dampt-shirt, still wet from all my sweating today. My skin that was visiblearound the ace bandages were all splotchy and raw from the heat andirritation. "Oh my God," I heard her say. I asked her if she was.
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’ I placed the first stone at the four-four point. I wished him to take the bait and attempt to win the corner. ‘Well,’ I said. ‘I will ensure he doubles it to eight if you beat me.’ I waited for him to ask what his forfeit was to be should he lose. But he was already deep in thought. He played like a coward. Perhaps, I thought, he had heard from my father of my prowess in the skirmish-play. I soon had secured three corners, and had him struggling for his life in the fourth corner. Eventually he passed his move. But I refused to end the game by passing also, instead I played on. Although I had already won the game by a wide margin, the recollection of his sudden startling appearance earlier had prompted me to punish him. I fought to gain the final corner as though it was I that was playing for my survival instead of him. After a few minutes he attempted to cut my wall, but he had overlooked a weakness in his own crumbling defences. No sooner had he placed the stone on the table, than.

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