When I pass the garage door, all eyes are on me, and they seem worried. Me? I still have that stupid smile on my lips. It’s been there since morning, and I spotted it in the mirror, after my shower.
Jo approaches, worried creases wrinkling his forehead.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
“Yeah, and you?”
I head for my locker where there’s another jumpsuit that’s not too disgusting and I begin to change.
“You’re sure?” Jo insists.
It’s silly, but it reminds me of my conversation with Kate. I laugh.
“Damn it! It’s not true!” exclaims my friend.
I put on the clothes without putting on the sleeves: they’re too narrow for my biceps and hinder me in my movements.
“What?”
I finally look up at him. He stares at me blankly.
“You had sex.”
I immediately take my most innocent look.
“What are yo
