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From: Nick Scipio <nick@nickscipio.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} "Summer Camp - Book 4" by Nick Scipio - Ch 10 (MF, teen, oral, mast)
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Date: Thu, 03 Apr 2008 19:10:04 -0400
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Author: Nick Scipio
Title: Summer Camp - Book 4: Christy
Part: Chapter 10
Universe: Summer Camp
Summary: Coming-of-age story about a young man whose family
spends their summer vacations at a nudist camp.
Keywords: MF, teen, oral, mast
Revision: 1.02
Word Count: 14,912
Web Site: http://www.nickscipio.com/summercamp/book4/
FTP Site: ftp://ftp.nickscipio.com/summercamp/book4/
Discussion Forum: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Scipio_Forum/

*****************************************************************
                        STANDARD DISCLAIMER

This story is intended as ADULT entertainment. It contains
material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you are
offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO NOT
read any further.

This story is a work of fiction. All characters and events
portrayed in it are fictional, and any resemblance to real people
or incidents is purely coincidental. The author does not
necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities described.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author, Nick Scipio. It may be
freely distributed with this disclaimer attached.

Copyright (c) 2007-2008 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.

*****************************************************************

Summer Camp - Book 4: Christy
by Nick Scipio

CHAPTER TEN

"I broke up with Kendall last night."

Trip and Wren stopped teasing each other. Jeff and Meredith
looked up from their newspaper. Ash lowered her sheet of slides,
and Christy set her muffin aside. The rest of the dining hall
suddenly seemed loud by comparison, but then everyone spoke at
once.

"Sorry, man." "It's about time!" "Dude, that sucks." "Did you
have a fight?" "What for?" "Oh, Paul, I'm so sorry."

Just as quickly as they spoke, they all fell silent.

Christy set her hand on mine. She realized what she'd done and
started to pull back, but then left it where it was. "What
happened?" she finally asked.

I gave them the abridged version.

"I guess I've been thinking about it for a while," I said at
last. "I mean, I haven't been happy for... well... you know."

"A while," Trip said heavily, and I nodded.

"What did she do when you told her?" Meredith asked.

"Said she never wanted to see me again."

"Well, I say good riddance," Wren said, which earned a glare from
Christy. "Oh, don't give me that look," Wren snapped at her. "You
didn't like her any more than I did."

"But you shouldn't say something like that," Christy said.
"Kendall's a person too, and she has feelings."

"_So?_" Wren shot back. "You know how she treated Paul. You know--
" Trip touched her arm, and she looked at him abruptly. She
started to argue, but then lowered her eyes. "Sorry."

The table fell silent.

"Are you going out with someone else?" Ash asked.

Wren and Christy immediately shot her a look.

"Hey, I was just asking," Ash said. "Most guys won't give up a
good thing unless they have another lined up."

"Paul isn't like most guys," Wren said.

"Besides," Christy added, "that would be crass."

Trip changed the subject. "So, what're you going to do now?"

I shrugged. "I have no idea."

"Do you want us to set you up with someone?" Ash said doggedly.
"I mean, we know a couple of girls who'd--"

Once again, Wren and Christy glared at the same time.

"_What?_ I just thought--"

"He doesn't need to be set up," Wren said.

Christy was the voice of reason. "Why don't we find out what
_Paul_ wants."

Everyone looked at me.

"I don't really know," I said. "I mean, _I_ broke up with _her_,
so I don't want to get back together."

"Do you think she wants to?" Meredith asked.

"No way," Wren said. "She's too conceited."

"Wren!" Christy snapped.

Trip added a headshake, and Wren grew quiet. "Sorry," she
muttered. "I just... I just don't like her is all."

"That's okay," I said. "I don't like her very much either."

Christy's eyes flashed.

"What'd you expect me to say?" I said calmly. "I _don't_ like her
very much right now. Some part of me still loves her, but I don't
really like her."

"He did break up with her," Trip said.

"I'm not going to bad-mouth her, if that's what you think," I
said to Christy, which seemed to mollify her, "but I'm not going
to lie about it either."

She squeezed my hand, and I couldn't help but notice her
engagement ring. Her eyes followed mine and she blushed as she
drew her hand back and covered it with the other.

"Well," Meredith said, "I think it's nice that you're a gentleman
about it."

"No fu--" Jeff said, but then shot Meredith a look. "I mean, no
kidding. Good for you, Paul."

"Yes, good for you, Paul," Christy said, but she was subdued.

Ash said, "I still say we should--"

Christy and Wren cut her off in unison, "_Ash, no!_"

"He doesn't need another girlfriend right now," Wren said.

"He needs _friends_," Christy added. Then she deliberately
touched my hand.

Trip clapped me on the shoulder. "You'll be fine."

Everyone else chorused their agreement.

"Yeah, don't worry," Jeff said at last, "you're gonna make it
after all."

Meredith snorted a laugh.

"What?" Jeff said.

"He's not Mary Tyler Moore."

Jeff looked surprised, but then he realized what he'd said. He
muttered, "I gotta stop watching re-runs with that fucking
Cajun," but it was too late.

"Is Paul supposed to throw his hat in the air?" Ash teased.

Trip hummed the show's theme song, and Wren joined in. They were
trying to lighten the mood, to keep me from thinking about
Kendall, and it almost worked.

Christy squeezed my hand when she saw the faraway look in my eye.
When I finally looked at her, she gave me a sad smile of
sympathy. She didn't say anything, but she didn't need to.

-----

I made it through my first two classes, but I dreaded seeing
Kendall at lunch. Part of me hoped she wouldn't be there. Another
part wanted to skip lunch altogether, to simply avoid the
problem. The compassionate part of me--the part that still loved
her--didn't want to end our relationship on such a bitter note.

I wanted to explain, to tell her why I'd done it, to make her
understand. Unfortunately, I didn't think she ever would. She was
so mature in some ways, but so _im_mature in others. She was
smart and focused, but only on things _she_ wanted. She was sexy
and adventurous, but our relationship felt like a romance novel.
Worst of all, sex was a tool for her, a reward or an escape,
sometimes even a weapon.

"Gosh," Christy said, "you're distracted."

I looked up and realized we were walking together. I didn't
remember the end of computer class, or even meeting her in the
hallway afterward.

"I've just been chattering along," she said, "like you were
listening."

"Sorry."

She shrugged, her expression light. "Don't be. You're allowed to
be distracted." She fished in her backpack and pulled out a
baggie with apple slices. "Here," she said, handing me one. "The
fructose will help."

I ate the slice mechanically, and she handed me another. When we
arrived at my History of Architecture class, she stopped and
looked up at me, her expression serious.

"If you need to talk," she said, "I'm always here."

"Thanks."

"Are you going to meet her for lunch?"

"I haven't decided. What do you think? I mean, what would _you_
want if your boyfriend just broke up with you?"

"I'd want something more than an argument," she said. "You were
together for a long time. You can't end it quickly."

"Or cleanly," I muttered.

"Relationships are messy sometimes," she said, "especially at the
end."

I managed an ironic laugh.

She looked down and gathered her thoughts. "Be yourself," she
said at last. "Be honest. Don't lose your temper. And remember,
she has feelings too. She's probably confused and upset. Scared,
too." She handed me the bag of apple slices. "You need these more
than I do."

I started to thank her, but she stepped close and straightened my
collar. It was such an intimate gesture that I closed my mouth.

"Don't do anything you'll regret," she said at last, her gaze
fixed on my chest. She turned away, and I watched her go, more
confused than ever.

-----

"Christy told me to behave," Wren said as she unfastened her bra.

I hung my shirt on the small rack in Siobhan's office. "Are you
going to?"

"I haven't decided."

We finished undressing in silence. Even though I was preoccupied
with Kendall, I couldn't help but steal a glance at Wren's body.
Her nipples were stiff from the cool air, and her breasts swayed
as she moved.

My eyes fell to the neat strip of her pubic hair, and she caught
me looking. I felt my cheeks flush, but then she moved close. I
expected her to tease me, but she quietly gathered her thoughts
instead.

"I'm sorry you broke up with Kendall," she said at last,
fidgeting. "I don't really care what happens to her, but I don't
want to see you hurt."

"Thanks, Wren. I--"

"Let me finish," she said without looking up. She mustered her
courage and went on. "There are a lot of people who care about
you. We'll always be here if you need us."

I pulled her into a hug. She held me tight, her cheek pressed to
my chest, her hair silken against my skin. We stood together for
a long moment.

"You know," she said at last, mischievous again, "now that you're
not dating Kendall, you don't have any rules." She walked her
fingers up my chest and playfully touched my lips. "Kissing isn't
off limits anymore." Her eyes practically smoldered. "Neither is
anything else."

Before I could say anything, Siobhan knocked twice and opened the
door. "We're ready when you are," she said through the crack.

I looked back at Wren, and her eyes danced with laughter.

She mock-pouted and pushed her breasts together with her arms.
"Too bad I promised Christy..."

"You're unbelievable."

"I know," she said smugly, "but you don't know the half of it."
She turned and flashed a sultry look over her shoulder as she
walked into the larger classroom.

"Un-fucking-believable," I muttered to myself. I couldn't help
but grin, which was what she wanted in the first place. I knew
her well enough to realize that she wasn't serious about trying
to seduce me, but that didn't stop me from _thinking_ about it.

-----

At lunch, Kendall entered the cafeteria and looked around
anxiously. She was wearing my favorite sweater, a form-fitting
blue one that showed off her chest. It was a message, and hardly
subtle.

"Time to face the music," I said grimly.

My friends wished me luck as I stood, and Kendall looked relieved
when she saw me. I felt a jumble of emotions, from pity to dread
to lust.

"Oh, thank goodness you're here," she said as she hugged me.
"When you didn't call last night, I thought--"

"Can we go somewhere?" I said. "Somewhere private?"

Kendall misread me and smiled. "Back to my apartment?"

I didn't have the heart to tell her we weren't going to have sex.
To make matters worse, she acted like nothing was wrong, which
made my stomach knot.

"I'm sorry about last night," she said when we reached the
apartment. "I shouldn't've said those awful things."

"Yeah, I'm sorry too."

"And I'm sorry I accused you of comparing me to Gina. You were
right, _I_ brought her up." She moved toward me and practically
backed me into the foyer wall. "I know a part of you will always
love Gina," she apologized demurely, "and I shouldn't hold that
against you... as long as I have the rest of you." She looked into
my eyes and then moved in for a kiss.

"Hold on," I said, and gently pushed her away. "I don't know if
that's such a good idea." Part of me thought it was a _very_ good
idea--_Treacherous organ!_--but I bulled ahead. "We can't solve our
problems with sex."

"The only problem we have is these clothes," she purred.

"Kendall..."

She pressed her hips against me.

"Kendall, I'm serious. I'm not going to have sex with you."

"Why not?" she almost moaned. "Don't you still love me?"

"Of course I do," I said, which was true, "but we can't do this."

"Why not? Don't you want me?" She could feel how much I did.

"Yes, but..."

She tilted her head and planted a tender kiss on the side of my
neck. "We had a fight," she murmured. "That's what couples do.
I'm apologizing." She ran her hands along my sides and then
reached for my belt, but I caught her before she got there.

"Kendall, _no_."

She pulled back, confused and uncertain.

"I meant what I said last night. We can't go on like this. We
don't have a real relationship. It's always sex, sex, sex. Even
now, when I'm trying to explain it to you, you think the solution
is sex."

"Don't you want to?"

"That's not the point," I said. "We don't have some storybook
romance. You can't fix things in the final chapter. We're in the
real world, with real emotions and real problems."

"But we can work them out."

"No, we can't, Kendall. We tried. Yeah, things got better for a
while, but then we went right back to where we were. That's not
what I want."

"Then tell me what you want--I'll do it." She pressed close again.
I was acutely aware of the heat of her body, the feel of her
breasts against my chest.

I felt a wave of desire, and blurted the first thing that came to
mind. "Have a conversation with me."

She furrowed her brow.

"Just a simple conversation. That's all I want." I was stalling
for time, but it worked.

"You don't want to make love to me?"

_Of_ course _I do, but that's not the point!_ "No," I rasped.

"But... I can feel you." To prove her point, she rubbed my trapped
erection, but I pushed her away.

"Kendall, stop."

"But..."

"My _body_ wants to have sex with you, but... we can't."

"What do you mean?"

I hung my head and massaged the dull ache in my forehead. "We
can't have sex," I said at last. "I'm sorry. I know that's not
what you want to hear, but it's the way it has to be."

"But... why?" She sounded so forlorn that I almost gave in.

"Because we can't be together." I was doing my best not to hurt
her feelings, but she couldn't understand. _Wouldn't_ understand,
more likely. Her fairy tale wasn't going to have a happy ending,
and she was fighting it. I sighed. "I... I don't think we're right
for each other."

"What do you mean? Of _course_ we're right for each other. We
love each other."

_Sometimes that's not enough,_ I thought sadly. She was too
emotional to read me, and my heart nearly broke at the look of
confusion in her eyes.

When I didn't say anything, she grew nervous. "What... what do you
mean we're not right for each other?"

I held her hands and looked into her eyes. "I love you, Kendall.
I always will. You're a wonderful person. You're going to make
some guy very happy, but... I'm not that guy."

"But...?"

"I'm sorry, Kendall. I tried to make it work. You did too, but it
just didn't. I don't want to argue with you, and I don't want to
fight. I _definitely_ don't want to hurt you, but I can't be with
you anymore. I just can't. I'm sorry."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned to leave. She
started crying as I shut the door. It cut off the sound, but it
couldn't erase the memory of her face.

-----

I stared at my drafting table as Professor Joska lectured.
Unfortunately, I couldn't get Kendall's face out of my mind. I
felt sorry for her, and I didn't want--

"Mr. Hughes," Joska snapped, "am I boring you?"

I looked up and blinked. "No, sir."

"Then give us an example of a design constraint."

It took me a moment to figure out what he was talking about.
Fortunately, I'd read the chapter, so I answered, "Zoning or code
requirements."

"Another."

"Site requirements."

"Such as?"

"Lot shape. Topography. Environmental factors."

He scowled. "Another."

I regurgitated the list from the book, and a few that _hadn't_
been in the book, which I came up with from my other reading. He
wasn't satisfied, but he couldn't object to my attitude either,
so he fell back on the last resort of thwarted teachers
everywhere.

"See me after class, Mr. Hughes."

"Yes, sir."

During the break, Gracie stopped by and whispered, "What's the
matter? Are you okay?"

When I didn't answer, Trip said quietly, "He broke up with his
girlfriend."

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"I don't want to talk about it," I said.

She wrote her phone number on a slip of paper. "If you ever need
someone," she said, and handed it to me.

I nodded and pocketed the slip.

Joska returned to the front of class and cleared his throat
early. He was in a foul mood, probably because of me, and gave us
a complicated assignment for the lab. Most people grumbled, but I
simply cleared my books and pulled out my technical pens. I
stared at the Faber-Castell logo, struck by the irony--Gina had
given them to me after she broke up with me.

My mind wandered at the thought of her, and I remembered
something Susan had once told me: _Love is about more than sex._
I had forgotten it with Gina, and Kendall didn't seem to
understand it in the first place.

Joska said something from close by, which snapped me out of my
daze. I chose a pen and tugged the drafting machine into place
over my paper. Then I cleared my mind and began drawing.

I thought I wouldn't be able to concentrate, but the lines flowed
with ease. I felt Joska behind me a couple of times--he was trying
to rattle me--but I never looked up. I was in my own world,
designing in my head, the pen an extension of my thoughts.

When Joska signaled the end of class, I looked up and blinked. I
hardly remembered the last three hours. The other students
stretched sore muscles as they packed their things and filed out
of the classroom.

Trip caught my eye and waved goodbye. Gracie mouthed, "Call me,"
as she walked past. I nodded and watched her go. Then I turned my
attention to Professor Joska. I even stood respectfully as he
approached.

"Is this a dormitory, Mr. Hughes?"

"No, sir."

"Do you think you can sleep through my class and get away with
it?"

"I wasn't sleeping, sir."

"You might as well have been," he growled. "You think a few
correct answers are going to get you off the hook?"

"No, sir."

He paused, annoyed. "Do you have a problem, Mr. Hughes?"

"It's personal."

He merely arched an eyebrow, his lantern jaw set.

I stared back, dead-eyed and unflinching.

"You can't let your personal life interfere with your work, Mr.
Hughes."

"I won't," I said defiantly. "Sir."

He clenched his jaw, and turned to my drawing to look for faults.
After nearly two minutes of silent scrutiny, he let out an
explosive breath.

I kept my mouth shut.

"This is... adequate," he said at last.

"Thank you, sir."

"I said 'adequate,' Mr. Hughes. You're capable of better."

I nodded silently, and he seemed to soften. I met his gaze and
held it.

"Is it something you want to talk about, Mr. Hughes?"

"No, sir. As I said, it's personal. I won't let it affect my
work, though." The work was the _one_ thing that helped take my
mind off Kendall.

He paused to consider. "Walk with me, Mr. Hughes," he said at
last.

I rolled my drawing and slid it into my carrying tube. Then I
gathered my things and followed him out the door. I drew abreast
as we walked, although he remained silent until we reached the
atrium.

"My wife tells me I'm a hard man to know," he said, without
looking at me. "Perhaps she's right." He looked like he wanted to
say something else, but he pressed his lips together instead. He
thought about it again, and even drew breath to speak, but the
moment passed. He squared his shoulders and clasped his hands
behind his back.

After a long moment, he said, "You obviously don't have enough
work to do, Mr. Hughes. Come to my office tomorrow morning. I'll
have a list of extra assignments for you."

I clenched my fists. Hard.

"In addition, I expect you to continue your work with Mr. DeFeo.
His drawings today were a disgrace."

"Yes, sir."

"God is in the details, Mr. Hughes."

"Yes, sir. Godly details."

"Are you being flippant with me?"

I started to deny it, but then changed my mind. "Does it really
matter?" I said wearily.

"Mr. Hughes, tolerance is not one of my virtues." He cut me off
before I could apologize. "Compassion isn't either," he added,
without looking at me, "but I care a great deal about my
students." He started to say something else, but fell silent
again.

"Your assignments will be waiting in my office," he said at last.
"Good evening."

-----

Kendall and I didn't see each other for two days, although she
called and left messages, like everything was normal. I wasn't
_quite_ avoiding her, but I spent a lot of time working on
Joska's extra assignments. On top of everything else, I had to
study for midterms.

I finally broke down and called her on Wednesday night. She
wanted to see me, but I told her it wasn't a good idea, which
made me feel like a heel.

"You're probably right," she said. "We need a cooling-off period
after a big argument."

I didn't have the heart to tell her that our "cooling-off period"
was going to last a long time.

"Maybe we can go somewhere," she said, willfully oblivious. "You
know, get away for the weekend, by ourselves. No distractions,
just the two of us."

"Kendall, I..."

"Just think about it," she said. Before I could say anything
else, she changed the subject. "Do you want to meet for lunch
tomorrow? We can talk about it."

"I guess."

"Okay. I'll see you then. I love you."

"I love you too," I said before I caught myself. It was true, but
I felt like I was leading her on. After I hung up, I slid down
the wall and sat on the floor with my head in my hands.

Trip appeared a few minutes later. "That bad?"

"Worse."

"What'd she say?"

"She just doesn't get it."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"No. Yes. I don't know."

He actually laughed. "C'mon, let's get Luke and Jeff."

I didn't want to bare my soul, much less in front of everyone.
"What for?"

"We're going out." He tugged me to my feet and then hollered
toward the back bedroom. "Luke! Jeff! Get ready, we're goin'
out."

"But it's _Cagney & Lacey_," Luke called back.

Trip looked at me and politely excused himself. Then he walked
down the short hall and turned off the little TV in Luke and
Jeff's room.

"Get your shit," he said. "You too."

"Where're we goin'?" Jeff asked as Luke grumbled.

"To get Paul drunk."

"_Mais_," Luke said, suddenly enthusiastic, "why you don't say
so?"

"I'm sayin' so now, aren't I?"

They hustled me out of the apartment without even listening to my
protests.

"All right, _mes amis_," Luke said as we walked to the Strip. He
clapped his hands and then rubbed them together. "_Laissez les
bon temps rouler_."

Jeff shot him a look. "Why can't you speak English? What the fuck
does that mean?"

"It means we gonna have a good time tonight!"

-----

The next morning, a demented dwarf set up shop in my head. He
hammered away, cheerfully oblivious as I contemplated ritual
suicide. Trip merely groaned when I prodded him out of bed. I
went to the bathroom, took four aspirin, and drank as much water
as I could, but the dwarf was there to stay.

Trip staggered into the bathroom, so I went back to our room and
did push-ups and sit-ups while he was in the shower. When it was
my turn, I stood under the hot water for what seemed like an
eternity. Jeff was waiting when I finished, but we barely made it
to the dining hall on time.

I managed to survive Western Civ., but only because I could prop
my head in my hands and pretend to read. When I reached Siobhan's
office and tried to take off my shirt, Wren took pity on me and
brushed aside my fumbling fingers.

Before Siobhan was even ready for us, I shambled out, climbed
onto the dais, and curled on my side. Wren cradled my head in her
lap and gently stroked my temples. We could have been the only
two people in the world as far as I was concerned.

I felt a little better by lunchtime, but I still had to meet
Kendall, and the dwarf still had his forge going. She wanted to
go back to her apartment, but sex was the _last_ thing on my
mind, so I steered us toward some nearby benches.

"Have you thought about getting away for the weekend?" she asked.

I closed my eyes against the bright light. "I don't think it's a
good idea."

"Well, you don't have to decide right now," she said, as if I
hadn't just said no.

I opened my eyes and instantly regretted it, but I had to look at
her. "Kendall, I..." I tried several times, but didn't know what to
say.

"We could go back to my apartment," she said. "I could fix lunch...
and then we can do anything you want."

Between the sunlight, my pounding head, and Kendall's attitude, I
finally lost my temper.

"Don't you get it?" I snapped. "We broke up. Time to move on. You
can't keep acting like nothing's wrong."

"W-what do you mean?"

"It's over. _We're_ over."

"Paul... you don't mean that!"

"I'm sorry. I love you, but... I can't do this anymore."

I stood abruptly, jammed my hands in my pockets, and walked away.
A gust of wind ruffled my jacket, and I ventured a painful glance
at the sky. Feathery clouds curved through the air, like an
artist had brushed titanium white on a cerulean canvas.

The cirrus clouds were beautiful in their own way, but I knew
what they meant. I hunched my shoulders and thought back to
Kendall's expression. A storm was coming, in more ways than one.

-----

Kendall broke before the thunderstorm did, but not by much. Her
parents had driven up for the football game, and she wanted me to
come to their RV with her.

I looked at the phone in disbelief. _Which part of "we broke up"
doesn't she understand?_ "Um...," I said at last, "that's probably
not a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Kendall, c'mon. You know why."

"No, tell me," she snapped.

"Because we broke up."

"Is that what I'm supposed to tell my parents? And their
friends?"

The conversation went downhill from there. It happened so quickly
that I had to blink to make sure I wasn't imagining things.

She called me everything from a selfish bastard to a pathetic
loser, which I bore in silence. I guess I just didn't care
anymore. When she finally wound down, I held the receiver to my
ear again.

"Don't you have anything to say?" she asked contemptuously.

I shrugged. "What _can_ I say? I'm sorry?"

"Sorry is right! I thought you loved me. Boy, was I a dupe! I
knew you'd..."

I held the phone away and let her rant, until she paused to catch
her breath.

"Well?" she said.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Is that it?"

"Is what it, Kendall?"

"I wasted four years of my _life_ on you, and that's all you have
to say?"

"Do you want me to get angry?"

"I want you to show _some_ emotion!"

"I guess I'm past that."

"_Past that_," she sputtered. "What's that supposed to mean?
Never mind! I knew I shouldn't have expected more. You've never
been smart enough to figure things out! First Gina, and now
_me!_"

She hung up with a clang, and I stared at the receiver for a long
moment before returning it to the hook.

Thunder rolled over the building as the first drops of rain
struck the window.

-----

Kendall showed up at breakfast Monday morning. The entire table
fell silent, and I braced for an assault.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she apologized. She took in the others
with her eyes and then looked at me. "May we talk? Please?"

She seemed calm enough, so I agreed.

"I'm sorry about Saturday," she said as we walked. "I was angry,
and I said a lot of things I didn't mean."

I shrugged. "I'm sorry I made you angry."

We walked in silence.

"I miss you," she said at last.

"I miss you too."

"I... I don't want it to end."

"We tried to fix things."

"We can try again," she pleaded. "I know things haven't been good
for a while, but that's no reason to break up."

_That's_ exactly _why people break up,_ I thought, but kept it to
myself.

"I know I put too much emphasis on sex," she said. "I'm... a sexual
person, and when I think about you... I just can't help myself."
She actually laughed, although it was ironic. "I'm thinking about
you now. I want you so much it hurts."

"I know what you mean."

"Do you want to go back to your apartment?"

_Yes!_ "We probably shouldn't."

Her face fell. "I know. You're right. But..."

We fell silent, awkward and uncertain.

"I want to fix things," she said.

"We tried."

"We could try again. Please, Paul."

"I wish I could wave a magic wand," I said, "but I can't.
Besides, I don't think we're right for each other."

"I can change, Paul. I'll spend more time with you, I promise.
Maybe we can model together, like we used to. And we can study
together on the weekends. I'll give up my pre-med study group,
and I can change my psychology group-- Why are you shaking your
head?"

"I just don't think it'll work."

"Paul, it _has_ to work. I love you."

"I love you too, Kendall, but..." I shrugged. I wanted to make her
happy, but I didn't see how--not and still live with myself. Our
goals were too different, our lives too far apart. "You're going
to med school next year, and I'll still be here."

"We've made it work before."

"I don't think it'll work this time. I mean, after last summer..."

"That was different," she pleaded. "I had the MCAT and my
application. You had your houses."

"How will it be different when you're in med school and I'm still
here? You'll have your classes and I'll have mine, and we'll both
be busy."

"We can make time for each other."

"We didn't do it when we were together," I said, "so what makes
you think we'd do it then?"

"But we'll _have_ to do it."

I shook my head. "I just don't think it'll work."

She stopped and faced me. "Please, Paul. I'll do anything to make
it work. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with
you."

Unfortunately, I _didn't_ want to spend the rest of my life with
her. I didn't want to hurt her, but I couldn't let her go on
thinking we had a future together.

"I'm sorry," I said at last.

"But... what does that mean?"

"I don't know what else to say. I want to be friends, but we have
to move on with our lives. I want you to be happy, Kendall, I
really do, but it can't be with me."

"What about what _I_ want?"

I touched her face as she began to cry. I meant to console her,
but it only made things worse. She hugged me tight, her body soft
against mine. My thoughts drifted to more than just hugging her,
and she sensed the change.

"Make love to me, Paul. Please."

It had been too long since I'd had sex, and she was too familiar,
too tempting. I suddenly imagined her beneath me, her body soft
and supple, hot and wet, moving as I--

"Please, Paul, I need to feel you inside me."

"I..." I cleared my throat. "We can't."

"Yes we can," she said urgently. She pulled back and held my
eyes. Hers were beautiful, a deeper blue than I remembered,
glistening with moisture and full of emotion. "Please, Paul. I
need you. I can't live without you."

All of a sudden I felt like a character in a romance novel, where
the hero and heroine tearfully reunite and live happily ever
after, The End. Unfortunately, we _weren't_ going to live happily
ever after.

"Make love to me, Paul," she whispered.

"I'm sorry," I said. "Do... um... do you want me to walk you to
class?"

She pulled back, confused. "I... What? It doesn't start for an
hour."

"Then back to your apartment?"

"W... will you join me?"

"I... No."

"Please, Paul. I love you."

"I love you too, but... it's over."

She started crying, and people on the sidewalk turned as she ran
off. I ignored their stares and watched until I couldn't see her
anymore.

-----

I don't remember my first class. I know I was there, because I
took notes, but I don't remember writing them, or even leaving
when it was over. I was still preoccupied when I reached the
computer lab, so Gracie rolled toward me, her knee touching mine
where our chairs met.

"Are you okay?"

I shrugged.

"Is there something I can do?"

I shook my head.

"Seriously."

"Do you have a design for making people happy?"

She actually laughed. "Sometimes it helps to talk." She put her
hand on my knee as Professor Liang started class. "I'm always
here," she whispered, and then rolled back to her own computer. I
tried to smile, but it wasn't very convincing.

I muddled through class somehow. Gracie looked at me every few
minutes, and made sure I was following the examples. When the
bell rang she gathered her things and walked into the hall with
me.

"Where's your next class?" she asked.

I was about to answer when I spotted Christy. Her eyes flicked to
Gracie and her smile slipped a fraction. She recovered at once,
and Gracie turned to follow my gaze.

Each girl knew the other by sight, although they'd never been
formally introduced. They were polite when I did the honors, but
they were both faking it.

"Well, I have to get to Marketing," Gracie said, too casually.
She touched my arm and smiled. "Call me, okay?"

"Um... sure."

Christy and I began walking, but she was quiet.

"What's the matter?" I finally asked.

"What? Oh, nothing. How did it go with Kendall this morning?"

I shrugged. "She's upset."

"Did you have another argument?"

"No. She apologized for Saturday. She... um... she wanted to get back
together."

"Does that mean what I think it does?" Christy asked, her voice
unusually bland.

"Yeah, probably."

"What did you say?"

"That it wasn't a good idea."

"Probably for the best."

I nodded, but it was a logical reaction, not an emotional one.
Kendall's offer had been harder to resist than I wanted to admit.

"Do me a favor," I said to Christy as we reached our classrooms.
"Ask Wren to... um... be nice to me."

Christy frowned. "Already looking for the next one, huh?"

I furrowed my brow in confusion, but then it hit me. "No! God,
no!"

It was her turn to look confused.

"Be nice, as in 'don't tease me,'" I explained. "It was hard
enough saying no to Kendall. I don't think I could do it again."

"Oh, Paul, I'm so sorry. I thought--"

"I know what you thought," I said, a little wounded. "I guess I
should've expected it."

"No, I... I jumped to the wrong conclusion."

I shrugged. "It's okay. I'm a guy, after all."

"But you're not like that, and I should know better."

I smiled, but it was tight.

"I'm really sorry, Paul," she said. "And I'll tell Wren."

"Don't tell her why, okay? I don't want to hurt her feelings. I
really like her, but..." I shrugged. "I guess I can't explain it."

"I understand. She knows how you feel. Besides, she doesn't want
to be the rebound girl."

"She told you that?"

"More or less," she hedged. "It's more complicated than that,
but..." The bell saved her from more, and she flashed a sad, wry
smile at the timing. "Gotta go. Sorry. See you after class. Don't
worry, I'll talk to Wren."

-----

I fell back on routine after midterms. I felt guilty that I
didn't really miss Kendall's company, but we hadn't spent a lot
of quality time together before the break-up. On the other hand,
I _really_ missed the sex, but I felt guilty about that too.

Fortunately, the design lab was a refuge of sorts. Between class
itself, extra assignments, and working with Freddie, I rarely had
time to feel sorry for myself. And when I wasn't in the lab, I
had assignments to read or papers to write for other classes.

I did have _some_ free time, so I called Earl Walker to schedule
flying lessons for my instrument rating. He had an opening on
Thursday afternoons, which filled a void in my schedule.

I saw Kendall a couple of times in the apartment lobby, but she
rushed past me, on the verge of tears. Abby glared at me, which I
shrugged off. She was Kendall's best friend, so I couldn't really
blame her for siding against me.

I still hadn't told my family about the break-up--I guess I wanted
things to settle down first--but I called home the day before
Halloween. I had a long conversation with Mom, who wasn't
surprised when I told her.

"You weren't happy," she said simply. "I'm sorry things didn't
work out, but I hope you and Kendall can still be friends."

"Maybe someday. For now... I doubt it."

We talked a while longer, but then I said goodbye and called
Susan.

"I'm sorry for both of you," she said when I told her. "We hoped
things would work out, but--"

"We?"

"Your mom and me. We talk about you, you know."

I knew they did, of course, but I didn't realize how much.

"At least once a week," she said when I asked. "Sometimes more...
depending."

"So you're keeping tabs on me?"

"Of _course_ we are," she said with a laugh. "That's what mothers
and beloved aunts do."

I mumbled something about _nosy_ mothers and aunts.

"Oh, get over it," she said, still teasing gently. "We love you,
and we try to watch out for you. We can't save you from yourself,
but we can help pick up the pieces."

"Thanks," I said, and meant it.

"You're welcome. Now, tell me about the rest of your life. We
didn't have much time to talk at the wedding."

We talked for nearly an hour, just catching up, and my mood
gradually improved. Susan was a good listener, but her warm voice
and gentle teasing did more than anything else. By the time we
said goodbye, I actually felt good about life, so I decided to
call Gina.

"Hi," I said when Regan answered. "It's Paul."

"Paul...?"

"Paul Hughes. From UT. How're you?"

"Um... good," she said, a bit puzzled. "How are you?"

"Pretty good. Well, not really, but I'm in a good mood at the
moment. So, how's life? How do you like UCLA? Gina told me about
all your volunteer work with the sorority."

"Um... yeah. It's, like, part of our commitment to public service..."

"She said you do a lot."

"Yeah. I actually kinda like it. But, like, do you want to speak
to Gina?"

"Well, yeah, in a minute," I said. "But since you answered, I
thought I'd see how you're doing."

"Oh, okay," she said, still nonplussed by my attitude. The
silence stretched out.

"Well, it was good talking to you," I said at last.

"Um... you too. I'll get Gina. Hold on a sec." She covered the
phone, but I could still hear her muffled voice. "It's Paul," she
said, "and he's a in a _totally_ weird mood. Like, he actually
asked how I was."

Gina chuckled when she came to the phone. "You totally freaked
her out."

"Sorry. I guess I'm in a good mood."

"Not that I'm complaining, but why?"

"I just got off the phone with Susan," I said. "You know her."

"Yeah, she has a way of making you feel like the most important
person in the world. So, how is she?"

"She's good. She's busy getting the camp ready for winter."

"Yeah, Kara said it was really different with no people there."

Gina and I talked for nearly an hour, about Stacy's wedding,
school, and life in general. I'd been on the phone most of the
afternoon, but the time with Gina passed in the blink of an eye.

"Wow, it's great to talk to you," she said at last. "Is that why
you called? Just to catch up?"

"Um... not exactly."

She heard the tension in my voice. "Is everything okay? Are you
all right?"

"I'm fine," I said. "But... I broke up with Kendall."

"Oh, Paul, I'm so sorry. I know how much you loved her."

"Yeah, well... things hadn't been good for a while. You know that."

"But... Kara said you seemed happy at the wedding."

"'Seemed' is the operative word. You know how Kendall is, though.
Everything's always about _her_. I mean, she's totally self-
centered, and--"

"Paul, stop."

I fell silent, confused.

"If you called to complain about Kendall, you need to talk to
someone else."

"But I thought... I mean... _You_, of all people, should--"

"Paul, _stop_."

"But... why? I thought you didn't like her."

"I _don't_. But I've had a lot of time to think about what
happened."

"_Exactly!_ That's what I'm tal--"

"Paul, I'm not going to say hateful things about her. I _loved_
her, remember? Not like I loved you, but still..." She let her
words hang in the air. "So if you called to talk about how evil
Kendall is, you called the wrong person."

"Sorry," I said weakly. "I just thought..."

"I know what you thought. If we'd had this conversation a year
ago, I probably would've called her every name in the book, but
I've moved on. I don't hate her anymore. I don't _like_ her, but
she's a person, Paul, just like you and me. And you of all people
should know what she's going through right now."

"I guess."

"You should, Paul," Gina said softly. "Think about it. Think
about how you felt when we broke up. You were pretty upset."

"Don't remind me."

"I'm not doing it to hurt you. It's so you know what she's going
through. She deserves sympathy, not scorn." She laughed under her
breath, heavy with irony. "Believe it or not, Regan told me the
same thing after we broke up. Why do you think you and I are
still friends?"

"Because of _Regan?_"

"Not entirely," she said, "but she helped me realize you were
suffering as much as I was."

"Regan...?"

"Weird, isn't it? She was the one who kept telling me to break up
with you. I mean, let's be honest, she never liked you... but I
guess she realized you weren't such a bad guy after all."

"She did?"

"Yeah. And she told me what I'm telling you now. Kendall's a
person too, and she's not really so bad. She has her flaws, like
we all do, but she's not evil."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," I said.

"I'm sorry you broke up with her, but I think it was the right
thing to do. You're too different. She was always so focused,
where you..."

"I'm pretty focused too."

"Well, you are, but you can make room for others. You were always
good at that. You're very giving, Paul, very generous. Like with
Freddie. How many people would help him?"

"It's 'cause Joska makes me."

"Really?" she asked skeptically. "Does he also make you care?"

"But... I mean... Freddie hates it."

"You haven't let that stop you, have you? You never give up.
That's one of the things I admire about you. Like in high school,
with that wrestler. What was his name?"

"Emmett Carstairs." _The arrogant prick._

"Yeah, him! You could've given up after he beat you, but you came
back and beat _him_ instead."

"Well, yeah, but--"

"You were like that with Professor Joska. He tried to wear you
down, to make you quit, but you came back stronger than ever. And
now you talk about him like he's the best thing that ever
happened to you."

"I dunno about _that_," I grumbled.

"Oh, Paul, I know you. You might complain, but you know I'm
right. That's why you don't quit. You _can't_ quit--it's not in
your nature--and you need to remember that with Kendall."

"Huh?"

"You might not like her very much right now, but you can't quit
loving her. I know you. You're the same with me--we'll always have
a special relationship."

"Yeah, we will," I said, my voice thick with emotion.

"So don't vilify Kendall. She doesn't deserve it."

I felt a swell of emotion and had to wipe my eyes to clear them.

"I bet you never thought you'd hear that from _me_, did you?"

"No."

"Maybe I've grown up a little," she said. "I guess we both have."

"Yeah."

"Too bad we didn't do it sooner, huh?"

"No kidding."

"Maybe then..."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Don't you dare make me cry," she said with a teary half-laugh.

"Sorry," I said, but then we fell silent.

"I still love you," she said at last. "I always will."

"I love you too."

"I'm sorry about Kendall, but..."

"Life goes on."

"It has a way of doing that," she said, "doesn't it?"

We shared a laugh, but it was sad.

"Now I'm going to be all puffy-eyed," she accused. "And I have a
party tonight. Ugh! Of all days to call and make me remember why
we were together."

"Um... sorry?"

"You are _not_," she said.

I changed the subject. "What's the party?"

"It's a Halloween party for the sorority, and the pledges have to
wear baby pajamas."

"Yeah, we have a party tonight too," I said. "The departments in
the A&A building are doing it."

"Are you going with someone?"

"Um... yeah."

"Who?"

"Wren."

"The one you model with? Something going on with her?"

"We're friends," I said.

"You said that pretty quickly."

"No I didn't."

"Did _too_."

"We're just friends, Gina."

"You like her, don't you? I can tell. I _know_ you, remember?"

"I guess," I said, "but we're just friends." It was technically
true, although it felt like a lie. For whatever reason, I didn't
want to tell Gina how I really felt.

"You want more, though."

"I don't know _what_ I want," I said, which was the complete
truth.

She fell silent for a moment. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Life's
pretty confusing sometimes, isn't it?"

"Especially relationships."

"_Especially_ relationships," she echoed. We fell silent, but
then she said, "I need to go, Paul. I'm on the party committee,
so..."

"What's your costume?" I half-blurted.

"A little devil," she said.

"Ha! That's perfect."

"I even have a tail."

"Sounds cute."

"It is. I'll send you pictures. What're you going as?"

"I haven't decided yet. Wren wants to go in togas, but I think
they're kinda cheesy. You know, like _Animal House_ or
something."

"No, they're fun."

"You think so?"

"Yeah! We had a toga party for rush this year and it was totally
cool."

"Okay. Maybe I'll give 'em a try."

"You'll have fun. Trust me. But... I really need to go. It's been
great talking to you."

"Same here. Have fun tonight."

"You too. And I'll call _you_ next time," she said. "Okay?"

"Sure."

"Love you," she said.

"Love you too."

"Bye."

I spent the next hour reliving the conversation in my mind. Was
she serious when she said "Love you," or was it just an old
habit? I felt a flutter in my stomach like it _hadn't_ been just
a habit. Then again, maybe I was reading too much into it.

-----

I was still thinking about Gina when Wren called.

"Have you decided what we're going to wear?" she asked.

"Um... yeah."

"Were you going to tell _me_, Mr. Mysterious?"

I smiled at her tone. "The togas."

"Cool! Do you want to come down? I can get 'em ready in a couple
of minutes, and you can see what I'm wearing under mine."

"Yeah, sure."

"Oh!" she said. "Bring some tighty-whitey underwear."

"Why?"

"Plaid boxers will look funny under a toga, don't you think?"

"No one's going to _see_ under the toga," I said.

"I am. Besides, I bet you look cute in tighty-whiteys."

"Whatever. I'll be right down."

I arrived at their door five minutes later. Wren grinned as I
held up a pair of white underwear.

"Perfect! C'mon in."

I followed her to her bedroom, and waved as Christy looked up
from her bed. She was already dressed in her cheerleader's
outfit, with a matching bow in her blonde hair.

"You look cute," I said.

She stood and pirouetted. Her pleated skirt showed off her legs,
and her sweater hugged her torso, accenting her firm breasts.

"Wren said you finally decided on the togas," she said. "Good
choice. Simple. Classic. Elegant."

"Not to mention easy to get into and out of," Wren said.

"You promised to be nice," Christy said. "Remember?"

"That was _weeks_ ago."

"Do you two need to... you know?" I teased. "I don't mind. I'll
even stay if you want me to."

"Wouldn't you like _that_," Christy said, but she wasn't
offended. Instead, she moved close, until I was acutely aware of
her lithe body. Her finger traced a line down my chest as she
smiled up at me with hooded eyes.

I had to steady myself at the sudden rush of blood from the big
head to the little one.

"No," Christy said, her voice sultry and smooth, "we'd need a
big, strong, handsome _man_ to handle both of us." Without
missing a beat, she turned to Wren. "Trip's available, isn't he?"

"Oh, that _hurts_," I groaned, and they broke into giggles.

"I'll let you two change," Christy said, smiling as she closed
the door behind her.

"She's as bad as you are," I said to Wren.

"Worse, actually. She just has more control than I do." She
pulled her sweater over her head and folded it neatly. "C'mon,"
she said as she unfastened her bra, "I wanna see you in your
toga."

-----

The evening had turned blustery and cold, and my underwear did
little to keep me warm. Wren had the same problem, with only
white cotton panties between her nether parts and frostbite. We
had the good sense to wear coats, but they didn't stop the wind
from blowing under the togas.

Christy was almost as exposed, but her coat was longer than ours.
Trip's football uniform looked warm enough, and Freddie was
dressed as a mobster in a slick Italian suit. Ash wore a long
cashmere coat over her outfit--she was dressed as Gr�inne, a
mythical Irish princess (which she had to explain). Zo� and Peter
completed our little group, as the couple from Wood's _American
Gothic_.

When we finally reached the stifling heat of the A&A building, I
was glad I'd worn the toga. We left our coats on two big tables
by the door, and Ash brandished her camera. She wiped
condensation from the cold lens and then started taking pictures.
We posed for couples' shots before she snagged another
photography student to take some group shots.

After the impromptu photo session, we threaded our way into the
atrium itself. The DJ had set up his equipment on the second
floor balcony, and was blasting away at full volume. He even had
several banks of lights, which flashed and pulsed with the beat.

We stopped at the edge of the crowd and surveyed the scene. The
people were a mix of students from several departments, and I
almost laughed at the differences between them. The architecture
students had "normal" costumes, like pirates, cowboys, and
robots, while the artists were more creative, and far more
eclectic.

One guy wore a suit like Magritte's _Son of Man_, complete with a
green plastic apple hanging from his bowler hat. Wren pointed to
an artist dressed as Vermeer's _Girl with a Pearl Earring_, and
Christy spotted a guy in a bodysuit that made him look like
Rodin's _Thinker_. We even saw a group dressed as Renoir's
_Luncheon of the Boating Party_--_all_ of them, at least a dozen
people.

Trip pointed to another artist. "Who's _he_ supposed to be?"

The guy wore a white suit with an irregular black grid, which had
random squares of color. We stared at him in confusion, but then
it hit me.

"He's a Mondrian," I said with a laugh. "_Composition with
Yellow, Blue, and Red_."

"I'll have to take your word for it," Trip said.

We spotted two Mona Lisas, Whistler's Mother, Van Gogh, Albrecht
D�rer, and Andy Warhol, whose date was dressed as a Campbell's
Tomato Soup can. The other costumes ranged from creative (a
couple dressed as paintbrush and palette) to just plain weird (a
guy wearing only a gold lam� Speedo, with a dollar sign painted
on his chest).

Trip finally broke the spell of people and costumes. "So, who
wants to dance?"

Christy smiled and offered her hand, and Wren pulled me after
them. Zo� and Peter followed in our wake, and Ash managed to coax
Freddie onto the dance floor. He was smart enough to do what she
wanted, even though she'd made it clear they were just friends.

We danced through a dozen songs before we called a break and
headed for the refreshments. Someone had spiked the punch, and
Christy coughed after she tasted it.

"I thought Catholics could hold their liquor," Wren teased.

"We can," Christy shot back, "but I'm not used to moonshine."

We talked and mingled before heading back to the dance floor, and
spent the rest of the night drinking and dancing, until things
officially ended at midnight. The DJ played for another hour as
people cleaned up, but then we had to leave.

"Hey, yo, look what I got," Freddie said as we tumbled out of the
building. He held up a bottle. "There was half a case left, and I
grabbed this before some art fag got his hands on it. I mean, me
versus _that_ flamer? Fuggedaboutit!"

We laughed and staggered across campus, warm and loose from the
punch.

"You guys wanna come back to our place?" Christy asked.

"Oh, please, please, please," Wren begged me drunkenly. She
stumbled and almost fell, but I caught her. She hiccupped and
giggled. "My knight in shining armor."

"Someone's had too much to drink," I said, and scooped her into
my arms.

"I'm completely sober!" She hiccupped again. "Well, maybe not
_completely_..."

"Hey," Freddie said all of a sudden, "this isn't vodka. It's
Everclear!"

Pure grain alcohol, 190 proof.

"That explains this one," I said, hoisting Wren to make my point.

She hung her arm around my neck and yawned.

"She's not the only one," Zo� said. She sagged against Peter, and
he supported her with an arm.

We made it to the girls' apartment without anyone falling over.
Freddie found some orange juice in the refrigerator and mixed
drinks. Wren raised her head and gestured for a cup, but I
scowled him away.

"Hey, I'm a big girl," she complained.

"You'll thank me in the morning," I said.

The rest of us hoisted our cups in a silent toast. Then we drank.

"Jesus, Freddie," Trip gasped, "are you trying to poison us?"

I felt my throat burn at the amount of alcohol in the drink.

"Me?" Freddie said innocently. "Poison _you?_ Fuggedaboutit!"

"Why's he keep _saying_ that?" Wren mumbled drowsily.

"I might poison the slave driver, though," Freddie said, pointing
at me. "No offense."

"None taken," I said with a laugh.

We talked for an hour, laughing and sipping our drinks, until
Wren started snoring softly.

"That's probably our cue to let y'all go to bed," I said. I
picked her up and carried her to her bedroom.

"Wha's goin' on?" she mumbled.

I shushed her and set her on her feet. She stood docilely as I
unbelted her toga.

"Spen' th' night?" she asked.

"Maybe some other time."

"C'mon. I don' bite." She tried to take off her panties and
almost fell over. I caught her and she slumped in my arms, her
limp body warm against my skin. "S'okay," she said. "'M all
right."

I gently lowered her to the bed and swung her legs under the
covers. I sat next to her and said, "Roll over and I'll rub your
back."

"Rub my front instead."

"Maybe when you're not so drunk."

"'M _not_ drunk."

"Are too," Christy said from behind me. I hadn't even heard her
come in. "She okay?"

"Just drunk. And horny. You know, the usual."

"Got _that_ right," Wren mumbled, but she rolled to her stomach.
"He won't spen' the night 'cause he says I'm too drunk."

"He's a gentleman," Christy said.

"How are _you?_" I asked her as I began rubbing Wren's back.

Christy shrugged. "Pretty drunk. But my metabolism..." She yawned.
"'Scuse me. Takes a lot to get me drunk. Good Catholic, too, so...
you know, grew up drinkin'." She smiled. "You're a nice guy." She
staggered and caught herself on the door jamb. Then she noticed
that my toga had ridden up. "Nice legs." With a giggle, she
added, "Nice butt, too. Very sexy."

"Um... thanks," I said.

"Don' mention it."

Wren began snoring softly, and I bent down to kiss her cheek.
Then I covered her with the sheet and stood. "You need some
help?" I asked Christy.

She tried to look shocked, but it was an act. "You jus' wanna see
me naked. But I'm engaged. Lucky me, huh? I'm gonna be married...
to... um... whatshisname."

"Simon," I said.

"Yep! He's the one."

I didn't know what to say, so I smiled and started to leave.

She caught my arm and spoke precisely. "Thanks for being such a
nice guy. To Wren, I mean."

"It's the least I could do."

She stood on tiptoe, and I had to duck my head to let her kiss my
cheek. "Mmm, nice guy," she murmured. "Def'nitely a keeper."

Back in the living room, Trip and Freddie were ready to leave.
Peter was saying goodbye to Zo�, and Ash had already disappeared
into her bedroom.

Trip nodded toward Wren's bedroom. "She okay?"

"Yeah. Just drunk."

"Paul was a complete gentleman," Christy said.

We finished our goodbyes and Christy locked the door behind us.

Trip looked at Peter when we reached the elevators. "You get to
Morrill on your own?"

"Yeah," Peter said, "I'm cool."

"How 'bout you?" Trip asked Freddie, who lived in Hess Hall,
across campus.

"Fuggedaboutit," Freddie slurred. He was using the wall to hold
himself up, but then he collapsed into a boneless heap.

Trip and I hoisted him to his feet.

"C'mon," I said, "you can crash at our place."

"Need any help?" Peter asked.

"Nah, we got it."

"Had fun, guys," Peter said as his elevator dinged. "Take it
easy."

Upstairs, we poured Freddie onto the couch and told him not to
puke on the carpet.

"Hey, fuggedaboutit," he mumbled.

Trip and I rolled our eyes and headed for our bedroom. He managed
to shrug out of his football uniform, and I was glad I simply had
to pull my toga over my head. I flopped into bed, bone tired, but
my mind was still going.

My thoughts wandered back to the conversation with Gina. "Love
you," she'd said. Not "_I_ love you," but simply "love you." I
obsessed over that pronoun for what seemed like hours. Then I
began reliving events from our time together: Susan's glade, the
quarry, and more.

Trip had long since gone to sleep, so I pulled off my too-tight
underwear and flung it at the hamper. With my eyes closed, I
imagined Gina's body, curvy and soft. She smiled and gestured to
me, her dark eyes full of warmth.

I imagined her breasts, dark nipples puckered with arousal. My
fantasy slid to her small triangle of pubic hair, jet black and
wispy, her smooth labia visible below. She beckoned again, and I
reached for my stiffening shaft.

In my fantasy, she sank to her knees and kissed the tip of my
cock. Then she tasted me and moaned softly, her lips a tight "O"
around my glans.

I began stroking myself in earnest as I imagined her sucking me,
making love to my cock. In real life, she couldn't swallow more
than a few inches, but Fantasy-Gina took me deeper. She pulled
back slowly, her fingers light on my balls as her taut lips
caressed me. She plunged again and I fought not to groan in real
life.

I wanted to fuck her before I came, so the fantasy suddenly
shifted to her bed in her house in Atlanta. She lay back and
spread her legs, and I positioned myself over her as she guided
my shaft to her opening.

I slid into her and she closed her eyes, and then moaned softly
when I hit bottom. I began thrusting, my hand working over my
shaft in the real world. After so many weeks without sex, I knew
I wouldn't last long. Fantasy-Gina arched with pleasure beneath
me.

I pounded into her until she begged me to come in her mouth, so
the fantasy shifted and she knelt before me. Pleasure exploded in
my loins as imaginary semen gushed down her throat. The real
thing splattered my chest, and I pumped until the spurts turned
to gushes.

When my breathing slowed and I finally relaxed, I went to the
bathroom and cleaned up. I stood for a long time and simply
stared at myself in the mirror.

Was the fantasy just a fantasy, or was it more? Did I want to get
back together with her? Would she want to get back together with
me? And what about Wren? How did I feel about her? I wanted to be
more than just friends, but what if I still had feelings for
Gina?

Some na�ve part of me had thought life after Kendall would be
simple.

"Yeah, _right_," I said to my reflection.

-----

I wrote a long letter to Gina the next day. I poured my heart
into it and told her I still loved her. Then I crumpled it up and
threw it away. I pulled it out of the trash and stared at it, but
then tossed it for good. I didn't know how _she_ felt, and I
didn't want to make a fool of myself.

I agonized about it for a couple of days, until I received a
letter from her. It was the usual stuff about her life, but I
analyzed every word. Unfortunately, I didn't come up with any
revelations.

She'd sent Polaroids from the party--her hair was cut short and
permed, and she looked fantastic in her skin-tight devil suit--but
the pictures didn't give any clues. She'd posed by herself, and
with Regan (dressed in a tuxedo as Marlene Dietrich, with her
wavy blonde hair spilling from under a silk top hat), and with a
crowd of sorority sisters.

Was Gina dating anyone? Did she have a serious boyfriend? She
never _mentioned_ anyone, but that could've been out of
sensitivity for my feelings. I wanted to ask her, but I couldn't
think of a way to do it without sounding desperate, so I decided
to play it cool instead.

I asked Ash for a group photo from the A&A party, and she gave it
to me at dinner. I wrote a letter to Gina--the usual stuff about
my life--but added the picture, with "Halloween with friends,
1982" written on the back. I wanted to underline the word
"friends," but decided against it (too obvious).

I felt guilty after I mailed the letter. Wren was more than just
a friend, and she deserved better. I didn't want to string her
along and then disappoint her, but I didn't want to cut her
loose, either. I felt like a cad either way, and I hated being so
calculating about it. It made me feel dishonest, almost dirty.

Wren knew that I was preoccupied, and she finally asked me about
it after modeling one day.

"I guess I'm just busy with Joska's extra assignments," I lied.
"Sorry."

"That's okay. I thought you were mad at me for getting drunk last
weekend."

"Mad? No, of course not."

"Oh, okay. Good." She smiled as we finished dressing, and I felt
like an even _bigger_ cad.

-----

I bent over my drafting table and put the finishing touches on
the elevation plan. Then I slid the drafting machine out of the
way and scrutinized my work, searching for little flaws that
could mean the difference between an A and an A-. I didn't spot
anything, which meant I'd have to go over it again and again,
until I was sure.

"That looks good," Christy said from beside me.

I turned and smiled. As usual, I'd been in my own little world,
so I hadn't heard her cross from her table to mine.

"What do you think of this?" she said, and handed me a sketch of
a powerful man holding a stylized flame. The man's physique was
less realistic than her usual sketches, more slab-sided and
angular.

"Who is it?"

"Prometheus. I thought it would go well with your modern
building. You know, the one with the glass fa�ade. The statue
will have to be stainless steel, of course. I can't create it
yet, but I will someday."

I pulled the drawing from my carrying tube and spread it on the
table. Christy picked up one of my pencils and sketched the
figure of Prometheus.

"I know you were thinking about a fountain for the plaza," she
said, "but I think the sculpture works better. _Of course_ I
think that, but Prometheus is a symbol of progress, which is
exactly what you want for a modern glass building. So... what do
you think?"

"I like it," I said.

Her eyes shone with excitement. "Let me know when you do the
watercolor drawing. I'll help you add the statue."

"Thanks."

"In the meantime," she said, "we need to go. I want to wash my
hands"--she waved smudged fingers at me--"and change clothes before
the football game."

We gathered our things and chatted as we walked back to Andy
Holt. Back at my apartment, the phone rang as soon as I opened
the door. I scooped the receiver off the cradle.

"Hello?"

"Hi," Gina said. "It's Gina."

"Duh," I teased. "How're you?"

"Good, thanks. How are you?"

"Better now."

"You're so sweet," she said. "I got your letter and picture. You
all look cute, especially you and Wren."

"Thanks." I dumped my things in my study cubicle and sank into my
desk chair.

"Trip and Christy look cute too. Are they dating?"

"No, just friends."

"Who are the others?"

"Ash and Freddie," I said, describing them by their costumes,
"and Zo� and Peter."

"Oh yeah. Ash and Zo� are Wren's roommates, right? They're
artists?"

"Zo�'s a painter, but Ash is a photographer. Well, I guess
photography's an art form too. I mean, she makes it look so easy,
and her pictures are really good."

"Half the guys out here think they're photographers," Gina said,
"but they just want to get your clothes off. The other half want
to be Hollywood directors, ready to cast their next leading lady.
It's unreal, Paul. The people out here..."

"Anyone special?" I asked without thinking, and immediately
wanted to kick myself.

She laughed. "You sound jealous."

"No! What gave you that idea?"

"You _are_ jealous. Like, totally."

"Of course not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

She laughed again, bright and genuine. "Oh, Paul, I miss you
sometimes."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

"That's because you're a goof. Now, tell me about the party. Did
you have a band? What were some of the other costumes?"

We fell into conversation, talking about our parties. In some
ways they were the same--lots of drinking and music--but the
similarities ended there. Hers was at a big hotel near UCLA, with
"party suites" upstairs. They even had a video crew.

"They had lights and everything, Paul. I think it was someone
from the film school. A couple of Beta guys were doing it, so I'm
not sure. But wow! The parties here are nothing like the ones we
used to have at UT."

"They sound fun."

"They are, but they're different. People here are kind of
superficial sometimes. They all worry about how they look, and
who they're with. It's totally shallow."

"That's too bad."

"Yeah. But there are lots of good things too. I mean, I was the
charity case in Chi O at UT, the token non-white girl so the
sorority wouldn't be accused of being racist. They _were_ racist,
but that didn't matter as long as they could point to me and deny
it.

"It's totally different out here," she went on. "I mean, I'm one
of _two_ Indian girls--can you believe that?--and we have a
Japanese girl, a Persian girl, and the most beautiful Jamaican
girl I've ever seen. But everyone treats us the same, just like
we're white."

"Well, you're half-white," I said.

"I know, but I don't look it. I've never been ashamed of who I
am, but you know how things are in the South. Like, you remember
what happened after the Iranian Hostage Crisis. I couldn't go
anywhere without people staring at me. It's not like that here.
It's totally cool, with all kinds of people."

"Sounds like you're really happy."

"I am, Paul. I hate the traffic, and some of the people are
totally phony, but I love everything else. You should come out
sometime. We'll do lunch." She laughed. "That's what they say out
here, 'do lunch.' It's so weird sometimes."

"Sure," I said. "We could 'do lunch.'"

"Oh, that reminds me," she said all of a sudden. "I'm flying home
for Thanksgiving. My mom was talking about having it with your
family. Are you coming home?"

_I am now!_ "Of course."

"Great! I can't wait to see you."

The apartment door opened and I felt the phone cord jiggle as
someone stepped over it.

"Hey," Trip said absently. "We need to head out if we wanna-- Oh,
sorry," he said. "I thought you were Luke, talking to... Who's he
dating this week? Never mind. Who're you talking to?"

"Gina," I said.

She answered, "Yes?"

"Sorry," I told her. "I was talking to Trip."

"Trip? Oh, say hi to him for me."

"She says hi," I said.

"Cool," he said. "Say hi to her." To me, he said, "We need to
meet the others for dinner before the game. You're still going,
right?"

"Um..."

"Do you need to go?" Gina said.

"No. I mean... yeah... sorta."

She laughed. "That's okay. I have a bunch of stuff I need to do
anyway."

Trip silently waited for an answer, and I met his eyes and
nodded.

"It was good talking to you," Gina said. "I can't wait to see
you."

"Me too."

"Love you."

I silently growled at the missing "I". "Love you too," I said
aloud. "Bye."

I hung up and found Trip in our room.

"That sounded good," he said. "You getting back together?"

"I dunno. Maybe. We're just friends for now, though."

"Uh-huh," he said with a goofy grin. "But hey, we need to go." He
donned a UT sweatshirt over his turtleneck. "Wren said it's
supposed to be cold tonight, so..."

-----

The next two weeks passed in the blink of an eon. I had more than
enough to keep me busy--with advising and registration on top of
everything else--but time _still_ seemed to drag, and I found
myself counting the days until Thanksgiving.

I couldn't stop thinking about Gina, but I didn't have the guts
to call her. I was convinced that she'd hear the longing in my
voice, and I was afraid of rejection. We traded two more letters,
but I still couldn't tell if she wanted to be more than just
friends.

In a perverse way, I was glad to have Joska's extra assignments.
I was even happy to work with Freddie, although he'd grown to
hate my constant refrain of "You can do better."

He stopped grumbling when he saw the new class standings, where
he rose more than a dozen places. I, on the other hand, had a
death grip on second place, which thoroughly irked me. My test
scores were nearly perfect, as good as Gracie's, but I couldn't
match her flair for design, no matter how hard I tried.

Fortunately, I had solid grades in the rest of my classes, and I
knew I'd make the Dean's List. I still had final exams, but I
wasn't really worried about them.

My personal life wasn't so simple. In addition to my Gina
dilemma, I didn't know how to act around Wren. I felt like a
creep for leading her on, or a jerk for being distant. She
misinterpreted my schizoid behavior, which made me feel even
worse.

"You don't want anything serious right now," she said one day. "I
understand. You were with Kendall for what, three years?"

"Four."

"Yeah, that's a long time."

"Tell me about it," I mumbled.

"So it's good that we're just friends."

"Thanks," I said. _Creep!_

"Except when I'm drunk," she teased. "Then you should forget all
that 'friends' stuff and just give me what I want. Okay?"

I actually laughed. "Sure. No problem."

"I knew you'd see it my way. I'm totally irresistible, you know."

"Believe me, I know."

She smiled and leaned against me. I hugged her and silently
called myself a creep. Again.

-----

The week of Thanksgiving _finally_ arrived, and I decided to fly
home instead of driving. I debated whether or not to offer Wren a
ride--Creep or Jerk?--and finally decided to make the offer. I was
still her friend, no matter what internal struggle I was going
through.

"Sure," she said. "I'd love to. I've never been in a little plane
before. Besides, we can take Christy to the airport and then just
leave from there."

"Well, it's a different part of the airport," I said, "but yeah,
that works."

"Do you want to get together after Thanksgiving?" she asked. "We
could hang out or something."

"Maybe," I hedged. "We usually have a lot of family stuff."
_Jerk._

"Oh. Okay. I understand."

"But maybe, yeah." _Creep._

She tried to hide her confusion, and I felt like an even _bigger_
creep. Or was I a jerk? I couldn't remember the difference
anymore.

-----

Wren enjoyed the flight home, but _I_ didn't, which was my own
fault. I hated being duplicitous. I hated being distant. And I
hated having to watch everything I said. I felt like a creep, a
jerk, a cad, and a heel, all rolled into one.

My parents had left the airport car for us, but I fell into a
gloomy silence when we reached it. Wren wasn't an idiot--she knew
something was wrong--and I felt even worse when she hugged me
goodbye at her house.

"Call me if you wanna hang out," she said hopefully.

"Sure. Sounds good. But I'd better get going."

She put on a brave face as I walked back to the car.

I don't remember the drive home. Erin and Mom came from the
kitchen when they heard the front door, so I tried to hide my
melancholy mood. After hugs and greetings--no mention of the
break-up--I threw my backpack into my old bedroom and went looking
for Dad. He was in the garage, working on the Corvette, so I
pulled up a low stool.

"Welcome home," he said from under the car.

"Thanks."

"Do me a favor," he said, pointing. "Hand me that pan."

I slid the battered pan to him and heard the stream of draining
oil.

"Thanks."

"Hey, Dad...?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever been interested in two girls at once?"

He slid from under the car on his creeper. "Sounds serious," he
said as he stood and wiped his oily hands.

"It is, and it's killing me."

"Girls at school?"

"One is. The other is... um..."

"Ah," he said. "I see."

"Um... yeah."

"I take it you're not going to date both?"

"Oh, no," I said quickly. "Learned my lesson the first time,
thank you very much."

He chuckled. "Good man."

"So, what should I do?"

"I can't really tell you, now can I?"

"But... why not?"

"Because I'm me and you're you," he said. "Besides, I don't have
to live with the consequences."

I laughed, but it was rueful.

"It's a choice you have to make, son. It's part of being an
adult."

"How come you never told me how hard it is?"

He actually laughed. "Would it have made a difference?"

"No," I said peevishly.

He laughed again and tossed me the oily rag. "Let me change the
filter, and then you can add the oil."

"_That's_ your solution?" I said.

"Life's hard when you have to make your own choices."

"But you're supposed to have all the answers," I complained.

"And lemme tell you," he said as he returned to the creeper,
"it's a cryin' shame that I don't."

-----

On Thanksgiving Day our family headed to the Coulters' house.
Leah beamed when she answered the door. She ushered us into the
warmth of the house and then hung back as I brought up the rear
with the basket of rolls. Mom and Erin went to the kitchen, while
Dad headed toward the TV room.

"Congratulations," Leah said in a low voice.

I looked a question at her.

"For dumping the cow. Gina said I should be nice, but I'm not
sorry to see her go." She looked around. "Don't tell my mom I
said that. She'll give me a lecture. You know how she is."

"Yeah," I deadpanned.

Gina stuck her head out of the kitchen, and her eyes lit up when
she saw me. Leah followed my glance and then looked back at me.

"Oh, _fine_," she huffed angrily, and stalked away.

Gina composed herself and intercepted Leah before she reached the
kitchen.

"Oh, never mind _me_," Leah said to her petulantly. "Nobody's
ever happy to see _me_."

"That's not true, Leah," Gina said, and shot me an apologetic
glance as they disappeared through the doorway.

Elizabeth's voice came from the kitchen: "What's all this, then?"

"_Mom_, Gina's already hogging Paul."

"Oh, I very much doubt it," Elizabeth said, gently chiding.
"Besides, he's not a trinket to squabble over."

I rounded the corner and smiled sheepishly.

"Hello, Paul," she said. "Welcome home. Here, hand those to me."

I handed over the basket of rolls. With a conscious effort, I
avoided Gina's glance and turned to Leah. "Hey," I said, "don't I
get a hug or something?"

"Now you're just patronizing me," she said. "You don't mean it."

Elizabeth cleared her throat.

"_God_, Mom," Leah huffed, "I wasn't being rude. It's not fair!"
She stormed off.

"Young lady!" Elizabeth called after her.

"I'll talk to her, Mom," Gina said.

"Um...," I said, and everyone stopped. "Maybe I should..."

"Are you sure?" Elizabeth said.

I nodded.

Gina's dark eyes sparkled, and she started to speak, but then
Leah's bedroom door slammed upstairs.

"Better let him go," Elizabeth said.

Gina's expression said we'd talk later.

"I swear," Elizabeth said to my mom as I left, "she's going to
turn my hair gray."

I smiled to myself and bounded up the stairs. Gina's smile
lingered in my memory, but I composed myself before I knocked on
Leah's door.

"Go away!"

"Oh, sorry," I said. It was a calculated move, since she probably
expected her mother or sister. When she heard _my_ voice instead--

She yanked the door open. "Oh, it's you," she said, a little
breathless.

I suppressed a smile. "Can I come in?"

"I guess."

Her room had changed--the posters of Shaun Cassidy and Leif
Garrett were gone, replaced by Billy Idol and Adam Ant. She'd
decorated the mirror over her dressing table with more pictures
of men: ads for cologne, swimwear, sunglasses, and more. Her
corkboard even sported a collage of Calvin Klein underwear ads,
with models who made _me_ feel inadequate.

She defiantly followed my roaming gaze, so I chuckled to break
the tension.

"What?" she half-snapped.

"Just looking around."

"What about it?"

"For starters," I said calmly, "it's different."

"So?"

"I guess you're not a girl anymore." I gestured at the hunks on
the walls and mirror. "It's more like a young woman's room."

"Of course it is, and I'm sick of being treated--"

"Whoa," I said, "hold on. I came to apologize."

"--like a child! I'm not-- Huh? Apologize for what?"

"I'm sorry I was rude," I said. "I didn't mean to ignore you when
we got here."

"You--? I mean... What are you talking about?"

"It's just that I haven't seen Gina in a while, and I couldn't
help but glance at her when she stuck her head out of the
kitchen."

"I saw how you looked at her. I'm not an idiot."

"Well, we're still friends."

"That was more than friends."

"I still came to apologize."

"You still love her, don't you?" It was an accusation.

"Of _course_ I do," I said gently. "I always will. But that
doesn't change the fact that I'm _here_." I gestured at the space
between us. "I mean, I barely even said hi to Gina before I came
up here... to talk to _you_. I mean, we're friends, right?"

Her face fell.

"What's the matter?"

"'Friends,' huh?"

My brow knitted. "Um... yeah?"

"God! It's not fair!"

"What's--?"

"Gina _always_ gets what she wants, and I never get anything.
It's not _fair_." She began crying angrily.

I tried to pull her into my arms. She fought me at first, but
then gave in. I held her for several minutes, until the worst
passed. Unfortunately, I laughed when she hiccupped.

"It's n... _hic_... not funny!"

I laughed again, full and genuine. "Sorry, it is."

"_Hic_... is not."

I couldn't tell her that Gina used to do the same thing, so I
simply held her instead.

She eventually calmed down, but she didn't stop hiccupping.

"You want some sugar?" I said at last.

"Yes, please. _Hic_."

"Be right back."

The women in the kitchen fell silent when I returned. Elizabeth
took one look at my damp shirt and understood immediately.

"Is she all right?" she asked.

"She's okay. Just some tears." I chuckled at the irony. "I've
caused a lot of 'em, so you'd think I'd be used to it by now."

Gina met my eyes and smiled a bit sadly.

I fetched the sugar bowl from Elizabeth's tea service. "Be right
back."

Back in Leah's room, I offered her a spoonful of sugar. She
tilted her head back and let it dissolve on her tongue. We sat on
the bed, and I put my arm around her.

"I'm sorry," I said. "It's just that... I guess I'm not ready for
anything more than friendship." The lies were getting easier,
which I really, _really_ didn't like. "So, can we still be
friends?"

She shrugged and hummed something unintelligible. Then she
swallowed and said, "I guess so."

I kissed her forehead. "Thanks. That really means a lot."

We sat and talked for a few minutes, until she was ready to go
back downstairs. She hung her head when we entered the kitchen.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"That's all right," Elizabeth said. "We all need a good cry from
time to time."

"C'mon," Gina said to her sister, "let's set the table together."

Erin jumped up. "I'll help."

"Thank you," Elizabeth said to me when the girls had gone. "That
was very mature."

I almost believed her. Unfortunately, I knew the truth about my
motives: I was trying to look good for Gina.

"It's good to see you," Elizabeth said.

"Thanks, it's good to see you too." I wanted to change the
subject, so I asked about Kara.

"She and Victor are at his parents' house."

"Have they made it official yet?" Mom asked.

"They've talked about it," Elizabeth said, "but he hasn't popped
the question. They're spending New Year's with his family, and I
think he plans to do it then."

"Um... I think I'll go find Chris and Dad," I said. "You know, male
bonding."

"They're in the TV room," Elizabeth said, "watching the
monstrosity."

"Monstrosity?"

"You'll see."

Indeed I did. The "monstrosity" was a projection TV, with a
screen wider than I could span with both arms.

"Hey, look who's here," Chris said as he stood. "You like my new
toy?"

He started talking about the TV, but I didn't really pay
attention. My thoughts were filled with Gina instead.

_And Leah. And Wren,_ I thought moodily. _Oh, what a tangled web
we weave..._

-----

"I... am... stuffed," Chris said after dinner.

"That's because you devoured an entire turkey," Elizabeth said.

"To be fair," my dad said, "I helped."

"I did my part," I added.

"But you're a strapping young man," Elizabeth said, "whereas
_these_ two..." She trailed off with an affectionate grimace.

She stood and lifted the platter with the skeletal remains of the
turkey.

"Here," Mom said, "I'll help."

"Leah...?" Elizabeth prompted.

"Yes, ma'am," Leah said sullenly, and picked up two serving
bowls.

Erin stood and began gathering plates and silverware.

Gina and I helped, and we quickly cleared the table. Dad and
Chris went off to watch football, while Elizabeth, Mom, and the
younger girls put away leftovers.

"You wanna go for a walk?" I asked Gina.

"Sure. Let me get my coat."

I helped her put it on, and then donned my own.

At the front door, she called toward the kitchen: "Paul and I are
going for a walk."

The night was frosty and clear, and our breath steamed the air.

"I forgot how cold it gets here," she said, donning a pair of
woolen gloves.

"I'll keep you warm."

She smiled, her dark eyes sparkling in the porch light.

"Sorry about earlier," I said as we started down the walk. "With
Leah, I mean."

"I saw it coming. I tried to head it off, but..." She shrugged.
"She gets so emotional sometimes. I guess I was the same at her
age."

"Listen to you," I teased, "worldly and wise at nineteen."

She punched me playfully. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah."

"Thanks for talking to her," she said.

"No problem."

"I guess she thought it was her turn or something, like you're
some prize."

"Oh, I'm no prize," I said.

"You are for someone," Gina said, and flashed a smile.

"Um... thanks."

We walked in silence, simply enjoying each other's company.

"It's so pretty here," she said at last. "You can actually see
the stars."

I stopped and gazed at the sky. "You should make a wish."

"Did you see a shooting star?"

"No, but that doesn't mean you can't make a wish."

"Of _course_ it does, silly. You can't make a wish on any ol'
star."

"Sure you can." I pointed at one. "I'm going to wish on that
one." I closed my eyes and concentrated.

"What did you wish for?"

"I can't tell you. It wouldn't come true." _Besides,_ you're _my
wish._

"Okay," she said, "then _I'm_ going to make a wish, and I'm not
going to tell _you_." She gazed upward and closed her eyes. She
looked so lovely that I felt a sudden pang of longing. "There,"
she said at last, and opened her eyes slowly.

  "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," I said.

"Okay. You first."

My heart suddenly hammered in my chest. I had rehearsed the
moment a thousand times in my head, but I still felt nervous. She
looked up expectantly, and I kissed her, tender and lingering.
When I finally pulled back, I gazed down at her and gathered my
courage.

"I miss you," I said softly, "and I love you."

She opened her eyes.

"I want you back," I said, and held my breath.

-----

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