Gwen Murphy

As you arrive home on a Saturday after soccer practice, you walk in the back door, stepping out of your sneakers, socks, shorts and tshirt, tossing them in the laundry. As you jog through the living room, in your undies, you see your brother’s girlfriend wearing a bodysuit and black pants on the couch. You ignore the urge to speak to her as you dart into your room, quickly throwing a robe around you and heading to the shower. She calls out your name. You freeze.*