Chapter 9Jason was excited when the next card came, but his emotions fizzled when he saw the name on the front. “Rick Preston.” Why had Ben sent it to his address?
He’d really hoped that Ben would want to keep writing to him.
Oh, well. That’s life, as Frank Sinatra used to sing. Jason would just write “Not at this address” across the front, chalk it up to a learning experience, and head for T.G.I. Friday’s by way of the post office. Wings and a beer sounded good about now.
* * * *
“You’re an i***t,” Jason said the next day as he stared at his reflection in the mirror in the men’s room at Wooster U. He’d spent the night waking from one dream after another; the only thing they’d had in common was the fact that he had Ben, who resembled a young Robert Redford, only to lose him to Rick, wh
