Chapter 3

Silence prevailed as Laura Standard led Kurt across the campus toward a row of identical cottages that were nestled among a small woods at the west end of the area. For some reason, Kurt fell into the girl's mood and became embarrassed that the two of them should be heading toward an intimate cabin that was to be his home. Once or twice, Laura glanced at him as they walked side by side. Kurt glanced at her, too, and he became very aware of the girl's grace that seemed to do justice to a ballet dancer. There was also a fragrance about her that Kurt found enchanting. But there were no words, only silence.

They had reached the path that started at the first cottage and swept forward in a straight line past the others when finally the silence between them was broken. It was broken by another. A girl who Kurt did not at first recognize hailed them from across the campus and trotted toward them. Laura turned to the girl, and so did Kurt.

"Hi, there, Laura," said the girl who Kurt now saw to be the one who had given him directions. "What are you doing, getting the newcomer settled?"

"Yes," Laura replied, a bit shyly.

"This going to be your cabin?" the girl asked Kurt.

"No, at the end," he answered. His eyes strayed over the girl, then he said, "Let me see if I remember correctly you're Penny Smith, right?"

"Righto, Buster," the girl exclaimed happily. Then she looked at Laura and said, "Are you going to change your mind and come to the party tomorrow night."

"I don't think so."

"What a square," Penny exclaimed. "You haven't been to one party yet."

"I know."

"Just grind, grind, grind, all the time," Penny said. "Really, you're setting a bad precedent for the rest of us."

"Sorry," Laura said.

Penny shifted her look to Kurt. "What about you? Do you plan to make it on the beach?"

"Make it, I don't know," he answered. "But I'll, be there. Professor Andrews practically commanded it."

Laura twisted and shot him a quick, rather angry, look. "She did? Thelma I mean, Professor Andrews invited you."

"She sure did. Why? Am I an outcast, or something?"

Penny Smith laughed and said, "Not many people are outcasts to good, old Thelma. And I'm glad you'll be there, Kurt. Hope you will be, too. Everybody, absolutely everybody is going to be there from President Arthur Fleming to you, the newest fish on campus."

Kurt looked from Penny to Laura again. He saw clouds in her eyes. He wondered what had caused them.

A sharp whistle sounded through the air and when they all turned, Kurt saw that it was the tall, expensive-looking Rodney Madden who had signaled.

"Oh, oh I'd better scoot. I'm already a couple hours late meeting the big man," Penny said.

Kurt watched as Rodney put his hands on his hips and frowned in Penny's direction. The girl frowned back, but it was an expression of apprehension rather than concern. Then she waved to him and broke into a trot in his direction.

When Penny had left them and joined Madden, Kurt turned to Laura and asked, "Are they steadies or something?"

"Not really. Penny's kind of one of the harem."

"Oh."

Laura glanced at him, then said, "Guess you can find the rest of the way by yourself."

"No, I can't," he insisted. "You have to show me."

"But it's just--"

"Deliver me to my chambers," he said, hoping that he sounded funny. "If you don't, I'll report you to the office."

"Oh, all right," Laura said, the sound one of irritation.

They continued down the path toward the cottage that had been designated for Kurt. When they reached it, Laura turned the door knob and pushed inward. The door opened.

"There you are," she said. "Safely delivered."

"Not quite," Kurt argued. "You have to show me the inside you know, make like a bell boy, see that the shower's working, all that jazz."

She rolled her eyes upward in an exasperated way, then entered the cottage. Kurt followed her.

The first thing to catch Kurt Wiley's eyes was the beautifully shaped bottle of liquor that rested exactly in the middle of a desk. The bottle was a work of art with its swoops and slices. There was a ribbon tied around the neck with a card attached to it.

Kurt glanced at Laura, then walked over to the desk. He read the card, grinned, turned to Laura again and said, "It's from Arthur Fleming greetings from the president of the college, good luck and stuff. Wow, is this ever a different approach."

"Other colleges issue brochures or letters from the president," Laura said. "Not Funston. A good bottle of Scotch for every new undergraduate that's the way Fleming greets them. And at the cost of the tuition he can buy the best Scotch, too."

Kurt smiled as she talked. The note of cynicism in her tone was unmistakable. So was the quickened breathing that had come to her, for her ample breasts pushed against her sweater in an interesting way.

In a moment, Kurt turned from her and looked around the rest of the cottage. It was small but rather luxuriously furnished for an undergraduate dwelling. The bed was double and soft-looking. The chairs were large and comfortable. And the desk and swivel chair in front of it resembled those of an executive; big, clean, brightly polished and empty except for the bottle of liquor and an ash tray.

"May I leave now?" Laura Standard asked.

"Talk to me a bit first," Kurt said. "Tell me something about Funston and what I can expect."

"You know what to expect from Funston," she said. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be here."

"Talk to me anyway."

Laura did that cute business with the eyes again, kind of conveying patience on top of irritation, then she turned around and very deliberately sat down in one of the large chairs.

"That's better," Kurt said, smiling down at her. "Now we can talk. But first, how about a sample of President Fleming's booze?"

Her eyes looked frightened for a second.

"Come on, it won't hurt you," Kurt said.

"Well, all right," Laura replied. "But only a small one." She nodded toward an adjoining room and said, "There should be glasses and ice in the kitchenette."

"Just like a motel," Kurt said, grinning.

"Yes, just like a motel," she agreed.

Kurt found the kitchen to be neat and compact. A good refrigerator was stocked with supplies and offered ample ice. The table and cupboards were cozy and gave Kurt the feeling of being a newlywed. He grinned when he thought about it and considered the presence of Laura Standard in the adjoining room. Then he prepared drinks, making them tall and strong.

Laura had changed her position a bit when Kurt returned to her. She had curled her legs beneath her hips and seemed settled and ready for sociability, somewhat to Kurt's surprise.

"Here, you go," Kurt said, handing her a glass. "Compliments of our alma mater."

She took the glass and smiled. Kurt settled in the chair that faced her. As he bumped his glass toward her in a little salute, he thought of the changeability of Laura Standard, how her mood seemed to switch from one pole to another, all very quickly and apparently without direct motivation. He had known her less than an hour, yet she had already traveled the route from snobbishness, to interest, to apparent friendliness.

"You're a strange girl," he told her, putting his glass down.

"Yes, I am," she admitted.

Kurt took another swallow of the liquor, enjoying the heat it caused, then he lounged a bit more in the chair and said, "Tell me, why are you going to Funston College? You hardly seem the type who flunked out of some other school."

"Observant of you," she replied. She took a fair sized swallow of the Scotch, then placed the glass on the floor next to her.

She looked ready for conversation, so Kurt encouraged her a bit, saying, "Come on, give me the story. I'll bet it's interesting."

"Not very interesting, I'm afraid," she said. "Actually, it's rather simple. I wanted to go to college. My parents couldn't afford it and neither could I. So, when Funston offered me a scholarship, I accepted it."

"But there must have been other schools ready to give you a scholarship."

"For awhile, there was, but my last year of high school I went through some things and my grades dropped badly. So, Funston was the only answer."

"I was a little surprised to hear that they give scholarships," Kurt said.

She smiled. "They give them to girls mostly. There's a terrible shortage of females on the campus, you'll notice. And they like to have enough to go around for the rich boys like you who come to dear old Flunk-out."

Kurt lowered his eyes. There was something about Laura's attitude, and her words that expressed it, that made him feel said. He couldn't identify the reason for it, but it was there nevertheless. And it made him more curious than ever about the pretty coed.

After he had taken another long swallow of his drink, Kurt looked directly at Laura and asked, "What kind of things did you go through during your last year of high school, Laura?"

She looked away from him immediately, then picked up her glass and drank nearly a third of the contents. When she put it down she met Kurt's eyes again and said, "It doesn't really matter. They were personal things and I had only myself to blame."

"A boy, eh?" Kurt asked.

"There's always a boy connected with a girl's trouble," Laura replied. "But that was then I've learned a lot since I was a high school senior." She took more of her drink.

Kurt wanted to press, but knew that it would do no good. So, he changed the subject.

"Are you going to the beach party?" he asked.

"Probably not. I rarely go to any of the activities."

"Why not?"

"I don't especially enjoy them." She hesitated, then said, "You might as well know that I have absolutely no respect for Funston that I don't have much respect for the faculty, either. Or for the students. So, I avoid them all as much as possible."

"But you work for Thelma Andrews. Don't you get along with her?"

"It's a little different with her," Laura said. "We-we have a working arrangement."

Kurt nodded toward the window. "What about that Penny and Rodney are they the big beans around here?"

"Yes."

"Penny makes a big show of being friendly."

"Rodney, too?"

"He makes a bigger show of it and means it, too. Seems he has some lover-reputation to live up to. He works at it full-time."

Kurt finished his glass. Then, without asking her if she wanted a new drink, Kurt walked over to Laura and held his hand out for her glass. She glanced at him, then at the glass. Then she raised it high, finished the liquor, and handed the glass to Kurt.

As he made new drinks in the kitchen, Kurt noticed the signs of himself that told of excitement. He was excited, and it was caused by the intimacy of the scene he was playing with Laura Standard. Already he knew that there was much of her that she did not disclose, and it was this that intrigued him, this that challenged him.

Laura was smiling rather secretively when Kurt returned to her.

"Well, that's better," he said.

"What's better? And what's it better than?"

"Smiling. And it's better than frowning and brooding," he said.

"Sure it is," she said. The words came brightly as if she had resolved some mental question.

Laura took a long pull on her drink as soon as Kurt handed it to her. It made him think that she was hurrying the liquor into her for more reasons than social drinking. He had the impression that she was drinking deliberately as one sometimes drinks to relieve guilt or free inhibitions.

Kurt did not reseat himself across from the pretty girl. He paced a bit and stood at her side, all the time holding his glass and sipping from it. And at the same time he tried to analyze his own feelings, wondered why he felt excitement and desire for a girl who was like none of those he had known. Then he wondered if it was this that caused the desire, if perhaps the difference of Laura Standard was what interested him.

"Why don't you put on some records?" Laura asked, turning her head and looking up at him.

"Records? I would, but--"

"The bottom drawer of the dresser," she said, pointing. "Push the button it's a hi fi."

"Neat," Kurt said.

He walked over to the dresser, and just as Laura had instructed he pushed the button knob and the drawer swung around to reveal a hi fi, complete with a dozen records on the spindle. He pressed the start button, then stepped back, watching the first record fall into place and begin a lazy spin. Soft, sensual music filled the room.

"Crazy," said Kurt.

He turned and grinned at Laura, then walked over to her. He stopped immediately in front of her and looked into her face. The smile had faded from her expression. Something akin to fear had replaced it.

Laura's quick change of mood caused a stammer of desire deep within Kurt. He did not attempt to define it. He merely accepted it and whatever it might cause.

Very slowly, Laura raised her right hand to the end of her dark-framed glasses. As she continued to stare into Kurt's eyes, she removed the glasses and placed them on the floor next to her chair.

Kurt felt a new twist of excitement in his stomach when he saw that her eyes were green. It seemed an odd combination for her dark hair, and he was surprised that the glasses had concealed their beauty, even their true definition. Carefully, acting as if he was afraid that he might frighten her, Kurt extended his hand toward Laura.

She hesitated a second. The eyes darted, almost as if they sought escape. Then they were directed to him again as she took his hand and pulled herself to her feet.

Wordlessly, Laura glided into Kurt's arms. He held her a bit loosely, cautiously, and moved her in a slow circle in the middle of the floor. He became frantically aware of the light scent of her hair. And when he felt a brush of it against his cheek, he held her closer, then closer still when he felt the snug fit her breasts made against his chest. Kurt continued to move slowly around the room, keeping Laura close to him, loving the feel of her body against his, her cheek now pressured against his cheek, and the occasional bump their thighs made as they turned.

Kurt ground his palm a little harder into the small of Laura's back. The pressure made her move even closer to him, and for one of the rare times of his life Kurt felt true intoxication for a woman. Always, he had felt lust, but never like this.

Soon, the record neared its end. Kurt wished that it would go on forever, wished fervently that somehow Laura and he could remain within the sphere of the limbo they had created; away from words and conversation, absent of other people, just the two of them snug and happy within the reality of their closeness.

Once more Laura's waist loomed at him and fitted to his outline. It was then that Kurt ended discipline. His arms shot around her and he crushed her tighter against him as he bent and caught her mouth with his.

Their kiss was hot. Their tongues very rigid and thrashing. But the tight clamp of their mouths and the opportunity it offered for passion's greater rise, lasted only a few moments. Laura, almost fighting, tore her mouth from Kurt's. Then her hands moved from his neck to push hard against his chest.

"Laura! Don't-don't fight me," Kurt pleaded

She did not answer. She started to tremble, looked at him with a horrified expression, brought her fist up to her mouth, uttered a short, desperate cry, then turned and tore open the door.

She was gone before Kurt could make a move to prevent her leaving. He watched her bounding figure retreating from the cottage. She ran as if pursued by a thousand demons.

Slowly, and unhappily, Kurt closed the door behind her. Then he looked at the chair that had held Laura Standard. He bent and picked up the dark-framed glasses. He raised them and stared at them for a full thirty seconds, then he placed them on the desk, a reminder of the strange girl who had been in his room, the girl who seemed different and out of place, the girl he had held in his arms, kissed, and known for a minute before she ran away. Kurt wondered about the mysteries of Laura Standard he wondered about the things he might learn of her.