Chapter 14

He did not want to go but April had insisted. He did not want to waste the time, for the evenings were all too short, yet she had demanded he obey. This afternoon, alone in the lab, she had held him close and kissed him. Both of them had kept wary eyes and ears on the closed door, the sound of the janitor far down the hall.

She had said, "We've been very foolish, darling. But let's not completely lose our heads."

"But it'll take an hour-maybe more."

"I'll wait." Then she worried. "It will put you home well after midnight, though."

"Who's to know? Not dad and mom. If they're not asleep, they'll be out somewhere. But if you're worried, we can skip this idea of yours."

"No, we don't dare." She had kissed him again. "Other people can guess or get suspicious, too. I'll wait."

So now, after dinner, he pulled his car through the slush to the malt shop and parked. He sat a moment, scowling through the steamed windows at the wavering shapes of the boys and girls inside. He grunted angrily, switched off the motor and got out.

Warmth, talk, laughter and music beat at him as he entered the shop. The booths were all occupied, as was every stool along the counter. He waved casually to a teammate who called out his name. He grinned at a girl who gave him big adoring eyes as he passed her. He saw Hal and Joyce in a rear booth, caught the golden crown of Clair's head above the high back of the booth.

She looked around and up at him as he swung in and dropped down to sit beside her. For an instant her eyes glowed. Then they grew cold and her lips thinned.

She demanded, "How do you know that's not taken?"

"I don't. But if it is, I'll leave when the guy comes along. Okay?"

She glared, tossed her head and spoke to Hal. "Meet Bill Collins. I don't know if you remember him."

"Oh, cut it out," Bill snapped. He caught himself and said more reasonably. "I've been busy."

"Don't I know," Claire said. "Even during the Christmas holidays. I saw you-let's see, four times in two weeks."

Joyce looked on from across the booth. Her dark eyes held an accusing light, which she quickly veiled as Clair turned to her in elaborate sarcasm.

"Our Top Cat's so busy with books, he's forgotten his friends."

"Cool it," Bill said. He held back his anger. "I'm here, ain't I? Cokes or something around?"

"To celebrate?" Clair asked acidly. "Okay. Sorry I butted in."

He started to get up but she stopped him. "Oh, sit down. It's cold out."

"And inside, too."

Joyce spoke up. "Stay, Bill. Please." She added quickly and casually: "You're here and we haven't seen you around. What's doing?"

He settled down and signaled the kid who served the booths. He ordered a round of whatever they wanted, a coke for himself. He saw that Clair had suddenly become very much aware of Joyce. Clair's eyes darted suspiciously from Joyce to Bill.

He pretended not to notice, spoke easily to Hal. "They let you off tonight?"

"For once. And I want to make it count. We were talking about the Comers. How about it?"

Bill involuntarily looked at Clair, who paid careful attention to her soda. He felt a stab of jealousy and then wondered why he did. He had a real woman now, whose mature passion gave him more than any schoolgirl could. Critically he eyed her breasts that had once so delighted and maddened him.

Still, he had to ask her, "You going along?"

She started a retort, thought better of it. "We're just talking-not doing."

He recognized her implied invitation but thought of April waiting for him. He said nothing and Clair dug savagely into the ball of ice cream in the bottom of the glass.

Hal asked, to break the strain, "When are you getting off this study lack?"

"When teacher lets him," Clair said.

Bill pushed his empty coke glass away. "So what's the big deal? Am I robbing a bank or something?"

Joyce answered soothingly, "It's just that the bunch misses you. We don't have as much fun as we used to."

"Oh, don't we? Speak for yourself."

Clair glared across the table and Joyce flushed. Hal looked curiously at his girl and then at Bill, aware of Clair's sudden jealousy.

He fidgeted a moment, then said, "Let's cut the scene, Joyce."

She started to protest, caught something in his expression and stood up without argument. Bill and Clair watched them go. Bill glanced at his watch.

Clair asked, "What's your rush?"

"Study. Corning to the end of the term."

She gathered up purse and coat. "Yes, aren't we?"

She pushed angrily against him and he came to his feet to let her out of the booth. She stood tensely facing him and he caught a glint of moisture in her eyes. Her chin came up, though it trembled slightly.

"How long has it been going on?"

He asked in honest wonder, "What?"

"You and Joyce? And Hal is your best friend!"

His mouth dropped open but before he could recover, she flounced around and almost ran to the front door and out. Bill caught the curious glances from an adjoining booth and, grabbing his coat, hurried after her.

Clair ran away. Bill took a lunging step after her, then halted. Let her go. If he tried to make peace now the evening hours would be wasted. Besides, if she suspected Joyce, she would clear April of any cloud.

Bill watched Clair disappear into the shadows down the street. He felt both guilty and elated. Too bad about Joyce-but in a way, Clair had been right. Joyce still carried a torch and his brief affair with her had done nothing to turn out its flame.

Bill shrugged, glanced at his watch. He had fulfilled his promise to April and it had not taken nearly as much time as he had feared. He grinned and strode to his car with a mounting sense of excitement.

Shortly he reached the expressway and sped eastward. An hour later he pulled off to a side road and rolled to a stop at a motel.

He saw April in a booth in the motel's coffee shop. She looked up with a pleased smile when he joined her.

"You're early. Did you do as I asked?"

"The malt shop jazz-with the bunch and all? Sure."

She hesitated, asked. "Do you think they know about us?"

"About the extra work and the high grades-nothing else."

She sighed. "I'm glad."

He touched her leg under the table, gave it a reassuring squeeze. She looked up and he asked, "All set?"

She gave him a tagged key. The number on the tag was five.

He looked impatiently around. She cautioned him, "Order coffee like a good boy. Act like the younger brother I told them I was expecting."

"Now that's a job."

But he ordered coffee and curbed his impatience. At long last, April stood up and smiled briefly at Bill, who hastily dropped coins on the table and followed her outside.

She stepped into the unit after he had keyed open the door. She snapped on the light and Bill saw her look toward the heavy drapes drawn across the window. He turned her and kissed her and her lips avidly responded. Then she stepped free and laughed.

"Darling, at least let's take off our overcoats."

He helped her out of hers and hung it with his in the small closet. When he turned, April stood by the radio, adjusting it to soft music. She was wonderful, he thought. His eyes drank in her trim, full figure in the dark high-necked dress he had often seen her wear at school. He suddenly thought of all the dreams he used to have about her and, with a feeling of triumph, realized they had all come true. He still had difficulty convincing himself that his trysts with her were real and not a part of those former vivid dreams.

He crossed the room as she straightened from the radio. His arms went about her and she leaned back against him. He held her close, his face buried in her hair. His hands moved slowly upward, felt her breasts. She moved sensuously against him. He felt the lift of desire. She twisted about in his arms, facing him and her lips sealed his.

They abandoned themselves to passion, exhausted themselves. The music played on unnoticed as they lay naked upon the bed, embracing, surrendering to their physical and emotional needs.

At last they lay spent and side by side. April's hand rested lightly on his chest and he quietly watched the slow rise and fall of her breasts, which still bore the faint marks of his hands and lips, then he looked at the graceful arch of her neck, her face, slack and lovely with emptied passion.

She sensed his gaze and her eyes opened, deep and soft. "Happy?"

"Sure."

She hugged him. "I'm glad. I never thought anything like this would happen to me."

"Neither did I." After a moment, "How do you really feel about me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not-well-just a kid?"

"Far from it." Her arms tightened around him. Her lips caressed the side of his neck. Then she lay quite still beside him. "But I know what you mean. Bill, what are we going to do?"

"About what?"

"Us-this is all wrong, every bit of it."

"Now, wait-"

"I mean it." She sat suddenly erect.

He saw her troubled face and sat up also.

"April, what's to worry? No one thinks anything about us, except that somehow you managed to get me to study. But that's all."

"They will, though."

He hastened to reassure her. "Not a chance. Look, we're fifty miles from home. Who's here from the town or school? No one. We've been careful."

She shook her head. "Sooner or later someone will get suspicious. Maybe one of your bunch-maybe the girl you used to date."

He laughed. "She is suspicious-of another girl."

"Oh?"

"Sure, a kid who turns on every time I look at her. Once she and I went to the Corners and-"

He broke off as he saw the strange expression on April's face. She looked as if he had struck her. He started to explain, thought better of it. April looked him over, slowly, all of his muscular body. Then she looked down at her own, wanton legs, flat stomach, lifted her hands to her breasts. She dropped them, looked around the dark unit.

"The Corners-motels-quickies."

He touched her bare arm tentatively and her hand swiftly covered his, firmly arresting it. She gave him a strange, soft smile.

"It's late. Hadn't you better get home?"

"There's time-"

"A long drive and-you have to go to school tomorrow." She rolled out of the bed on her side. "Get dressed, Bill. I've got a heavy day coming up, too."

He started to protest but she grabbed up her robe and swept it about her. She stood waiting, eyes level, expression firm. He had the feeling that she had suddenly changed from loving bedmate to teacher, that she would cut him as short here as she would in a classroom argument.

He dressed, his illusions of maturity and manhood evaporating under her silent waiting. He finally stood by the door, overcoat on, hat in his hand. Only then did she suddenly become soft and desirable again. She came to him and, reaching up on bare toes, kissed him.

"Good night, darling. You're wonderful. Believe me."

"Then-"

Her firmness returned. "No. It's late. You can understand I'm tired. I'll see you tomorrow."

"When?"

"I don't know. I'll talk to you later."

As he sped home down the expressway, Bill frowned down the bright headlight beams. Something had changed back there and he had the feeling things would never again be quite the same. He could not understand why.

He asked aloud, "Now what did I say-or do?"