Then she stopped, looking at it in horror. It was covered in spittle.A few muffled sniggers sounded behind her and, as she turned round to confront th...m, her bag was snatched off the bench and the contents strewn over the floor.At least a dozen girls clustered round her, in a semi-circle. Most of them were black, but there were a couple of white ones, and a tall skinny Indian girl with dreadful acne."Please," said Angela. "Please leave me alone."It was a large, fat West Indian girl — her name. We had Bob handle it for her. We told him it was to honer Mom. I think he suspected something but never mentioned it. Bob arranged for all our accounts to show the new name. After the name change, I made a copy of her new birth certificate and changed the names of her parents to our maternal grand parents names. Then I copied it again. The new copy looked legit and showed no sign of tampering. We kept all the old papers and used them for a while till we took the next step.We decided, after some. I noticed she didn't bother dragging her chardonnay down with her. I tilted back the rest of my beer and she tilted hers back in kind. Mine being mostly gone already was finished fairly quickly, but she managed to down her entire beer almost right behind me. "No, I guess you could say not." She giggled. Her attitude had managed to do a 180 in the last minute or so. She looked even more beautiful with a smile on her face. She signaled Max to bring two more beers down to us. "So what is my kind. The hint of envy in her tone obvious. He looked across at her curiously. “So you think they were lucky, heh?” Mark said, his expression changing from an intoxicated weariness to outright focused interest. He stared at Becky and she stared back. She was daring him, I thought. “You know what babe, it might be your lucky day,” he said. He always called her Babe.He got up and went through the door and into the hall and a minute later came back holding up a tired looking sprig of mistletoe. He held.
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