perspiration. Two boys sat on the curb, watching him work on the car. “That’s my boyfriend,” said Chablis. “That’s Jeff. He’s the hunk I told you about. Come, I want you to meet him.” This, then, was the one who, as Chablis had put it, satisfied her every need. It was hard to imagine exactly what those needs might be, harder still to envision what sort of person would satisfy them.
