In fact several people who did not know we were brother and sister asked if we were dating. We would always laugh at the idea and explain the truth, but secretly I always did kind of wish we were dating. Amanda was really pretty. She was 5’6”, kept a nice tan all year round, had very natural, very red hair. She was just slightly overweight, but never complained about it. I actually always thought the extra weight made her look even sexier, but could never figure out a way to complement her about that in a brotherly way. I sort of suspected that Amanda felt the same way about me. We were always a little quasi-sexual around each other. We rarely wore many clothes around the house, especially during summer. I would not usually wear a shirt, and she would often wear a bathing suit top with very short denim shorts or something. I would look down at her cleavage a lot, and she would often catch me. She would never let it slide either. She was never angry about it, but would never let it go. He was right. The car wasonly seconds away. There was no getting away now.The car pulled up right next to Art. The second blast of headlights hadonce again left him with splotchy, blurry eyesight. He turned away fromthe car as best as he could, not wanting to let the driver see his face."Hello beautiful," Art recognised the voice, even if he couldn't quitepinpoint it, "You out here all alone?" Why don't you get in. We'll give you a ride home." A second voice. Artdidn't reply. He was sure he recognised that voice too. He refused toturn to them, instead looking out across the darkened front gardens ofthe houses. Where he had earlier been grateful to see them deserted andempty, now he hoped someone, anyone, would emerge and save him fromthis."Hey," The first voice again, trying to catch Art's attention, "Hey!We're trying to be nice here.Why don't you get in the car." Art stilldidn't turn."OY!" The second voice shouted louder, as a wide open palm smashed thehorn of the car sending a.
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