Lisa stands to the front of my desk, while Jacqueline sits in an office chair; rolling in behind the desk and pressing me up against the glass window that runs the full height from the ceiling to the floor, and 18 feet to a door at the other end of the room.
She is squeezing my arm particularly hard today. Whum Now is standing behind her further cutting off my only means of escape.
“Roger, why don’t you like my friend?” asks Jacqueline.
“But, you see, it’s just that, she’s a nice girl but…,” I reply.
Students passing by on the outside stop to watch…