When I think of a "crush" I envision a pimply-faced, shy, teenage
boy who admires the blond prom queen-cheerleader, from afar. Maybe
he'll venture an awkward hello or wave in the high school hallway.
Maybe he'll go so far as to send her an anonymous note professing
his interest, his desire. Maybe he might even brave sitting next to
her on a class trip. But rarely would it go any farther than that.
It's all innocent, non-threatening, and, for the one on the
receiving end, it's flattering.
When Sandra Brown uses the word "crush" you can expect innocence to
be replaced by menace and flattery to become ca