I am walking down the hall at school with Dixie McKeever. She seems to like me.  For some reason, I put my arm around her, but feel kind of guilty because of Sharon.  In a way, I don't want to, but she sure is cute, and pretty soon, as we are leaving school on the Roche St. side, she puts her arm around me.  This is how things are when someone comes by in front of school in a car.  They stare open-mouthed and I feel sure they will tell Sharon.  I am very worried.