You just decided it on your own." Is it not my house?" said Phillip, a note of real anger in his voice. He stood at her night table, looking over her ...ombs and perfumes, his delicate pianist's fingers touching them, as if curious to test whether they were solid."Yes," said Penelope, her voice dull. "It is. But what if —"Then she screamed and Phillip jumped and she ran from the window into his arms. "What’s wrong?" There's someone out here!" said Penelope. "Someone staring into my window, I saw. But nothing changed. I’ll try to explain.Our daily lives were just as they had always been. We had classes, did homework, completed chores, argued about things, and were just like any normal family.At night, the house was full of lovers, sharing passion, sleeping together, unwinding from a stressful day.The sleeping arrangements were very fluid. The girls still had their room. They kept their stuff in their room. Rudy and I had our room. All that was exactly as it had always been. But who slept. Actually they all say the same thing; you are responsible for your actions and their consequences. The reason that they are clichés is that they are all true. This is my story which proves the truth of these time worn sayings.I'm sitting under a shelter made out of a tarp and some rope, in the mountains of Colorado that surrounded Denver. Just me and my Harley waiting for the rain to stop. The rhythm of the rain on the tarp is soothing and my mind begins to wander and think about the reasons. Both of us were seniors, and out of eligibility. We kept running, working out and working with weights at the same times we did when we were playing, and we participated in pick up games with girls from the team, but we hung out a lot less at other times. There was a working group of Kaps, Sigs and Deltas, which she and I were on, which met every couple of weeks right up until the big event. Our relationship was aloof. It was like we knew we were enemies, and might have to go mano-a-mano. I.
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