So I had sex with Fletch again last night. It was all right, better than last time anyway, and Fletch is a laugh. And he’s not so bad-looking . . . although not so good without his clothes on. We didn’t cuddle afterward—that’s not really how it is with us. We were dressed and downstairs with our history books open by the time his mom came in, although you could tell she didn’t buy it the way she gave me evils when Fletch’s little brother...