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Heather Corinna

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“Ironically, for all that youth culture rejects classical music as old-fashioned and out-ofdate, it is the way it is because of an excess of rational thought; it is, literally, too modern. Instead, youth culture yearns for a prerational immediacy, that of the body, of libidinal energy, and for the luxury of blind, adolescent emotions without consequences or responsibilities. Ironic, too, is that popular culture presents a prerational consciousness as the absolutely modern.”

“The ways that teenagers are - the supposedly immutable patterns of behavior culturally ascribed to teens - exist within society in which they are oppressed, stripped of power, surveilled (by parents or other guardians, schools, and by police), criminalized, and controlled. I would suggest that basing our understanding of teenage behavior on a population existing under oppression, shut away from the rest of society in schools, with very little power or freedom, does not represent an accurate picture of what teens are innately like. I would also suggest that much of what is cast as "bad" behavior is not inherently bad; it's simply inconvenient or dangerous to power.”

“How old are you?” “Twenty-seven.” Twenty-seven. Older than she’d thought. But still… “I’m thirty-four.” He lifted a shoulder. “So?” So? Joss sighed. “That’s seven years older than you.” He grinned. “Seven years more experienced.” Joss suppressed the urge to laugh hysterically. If he thought he’d be getting some kind of well-honed tantric experience from her, he’d be sorely let down. She was too damn tired to be some kind of Mrs. Robinson. Like he even needed one. “Look, you’re very sweet—” His dramatic wince interrupted her. “Is there where you pat me on the head and tell me to run along now?” It was Joss’s turn to laugh. “Something like that.” “Are you sure I can’t interest you?” He set his broad grin to stun. “I’m really very good with my hands.” Joss didn’t doubt it. “To which my flat tire can attest. But trust me, there are plenty of pretty girls your age in town who would happily volunteer for a demonstration.” And Joss was blindingly envious of every one of them. He slid his hands into his back pockets and set his jaw. “What if I don’t want a girl? What if I want a woman?”

“You should come and watch me.” She frowned. “Watch you?” A small smiled nudged his lips. She didn’t need to be a mind reader to know where his mind had just gone. “Ride bulls. On the weekend.” There were probably about a hundred things she’d put her hand up to watch this guy do, a lot of them just as dirty as the things he’d been thinking. Watching him get tossed around for entertainment on the back of a large angry animal wasn’t one of them.”

“I just wish I knew what he was thinking, you know?” Her eyebrows knotted as she searched his face for who knew what. “You’re a guy. Can you shed any light on what the hell goes through a teenage boy’s head?” Troy was pretty sure she did not want to know the kind of things that occupied the brain of a fifteen-year-old male. There was some stuff mothers just shouldn’t know. “Well that would be breaking the guy code,” he teased. “Suffice to say that most of it involves chicks and heavy levels of nudity.” “Oh God…” She groaned. “Don’t. I’m not ready for that. I don’t even want to think about it.” She chewed on her bottom lip and Troy lost his place in the conversation. He wanted to step right up into her space, slide his hand onto her waist and soothe that bottom lip with his tongue. His dick got hard at the thought but he was pretty sure she’d knee him in the balls if he even attempted such a move. Unfortunately, not even the prospect of that killed his erection.”