James thinks about his truck—a big, black Ford F150, mud flaps, air gate in the back. He is lying on his waterbed, reading the Crutchfield catalog. He sees an advertisement for a Sony Xplod amplifier he’d like to buy. He thinks of his truck and of Tonya Jones from his Trigonometry class. “When she sees it all waxed up, she’ll want me,” he says to himself, masturbating while his mother readies dinner in the kitchen below. He has his Levis pulled below his ass. As he listens to the quiet lap of his waterbed, an image of a Sony Xplod amp superimposed over Tonya Jones’ face comes forefront and his erection grows harder.