Wendy did the same, showing a firm bicep with a slight bulge of muscle. Suddenly realizing that she was shaming me, she quickly dropped her armand said: "Let's play Nintendo."I smiled; it was the one thing we did in which I could usually win. By the time I was 11, and she was 12, our games of house ended; Wendywent off to another school and soon moved. Despite tearful promises tobe friends until death, we soon lost track of each other. We hugged hard, crying real tears when we parted. Wendy whispered intomy ear during the tearful session: "You're like a girl friend to me,Kevin."And I cried a bit harder, finding real happiness in being recognized asa "girl friend." From then on, I found myself yearning more and morefor the companionship of girls, not for sexual reasons, but because ofthe sisterhood I cherished.Thus, I spent my school years, shy and retiring, trying not to benoticed. I steered away from making friends with other boys, andinstead concentrated on getting good. Three hours later, she gave up the search as a waste of time and effort. She checked Angela's purse. In it, among the candy-wrappers and Kleenexes, she found a box and a receipt. The box said "Spells 'R' Us". Spells 'R' Us? The bullshit Frat story? But that was completely impossible! But so was walking around in your wife's body. And if anybody could, or would, give an airhead like Angela a magic amulet to switch bodies, it would be the Spells 'R' Us wizard. The receipt gave an address in Greenwich. The mall in Greenwich was exactly the kind of place that a super-annulated mall-bunny like Angela would shop, Frank mused. And there, at the very address listed on the receipt, was a cutesy 'Olde Curiositie Shoppe' style store. She went in, hoping for the best, expecting the worst. Behind the counter was a very cute brunette, playing an involved looking game involving pegs and a board with holes in it. She looked like she was losing. Sitting on a rickety rocking chair was an old man with.
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