"You can't even lie, like anyone else could. You hate her thatmuch. It's obvious. You can't even ask how she is." I don't hate your mother, Phoebe." O... please!" Phoebe's face twisted into an exaggerated expression ofdisbelief. "Then what would you call it?"It was a good question. What would Marcia call it? She didn't hateClaire, at least she didn't think she did, when all was said and done.But did she care about her? In many respects, she thought of Claire theway a parent might think of a. 2... 3!"We looked into each other's eyes as we licked the salt off our hands and downed the tequila grimacing at the taste before biting into the bitter lemon.We smiled for a second and he looked as if he was going to say something but before he got the chance his name was called over the mike.He looked annoyed and happy all in the same moment as he shrugged his shoulders and made his way to the front.When the first cord of the song stuck my head snapped up, and there he was, one of the. More

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