my thighs, pouring sweat, stuck to the hot leather of his passenger seat, but i couldn't imagine sitting anywhere else. we sat at the end of his cul-de-sac, nowhere to go to escape the heat, slowly smoking cigarettes and drinking vodka iced tea. i forced myself to adopt a nonchalance that belied my excitement, attempting to match his level of cool. he wore dark glasses, of course, which made it even more difficult to ascertain his thoughts, already so impossible to read.