provocative eyes for an instant and then looked at the floor. “I do?” she said.
The door opened noisily and Emily burst in, laughing. “Hi, roomies!” she said.
"Jesus, Emmy!” Beth got up with a grin and walked over to her. “Let me see your face.” It was lipsticked from ear to ear and down her neck to the collar of her blouse. Beth laughed at her. “Laura, our roommate is bombed,” she said.
Emily studied herself in the mirror. “And it's indelible,” she wailed.
"Is she drunk?” Laura whispered to Beth.
"Sure,” said Beth. “She's stoned.” She took Emmy's chin in her hand and surveyed her face. Emmy submitted docilely to the examination, with her eyes shut. “Open your eyes, Em, I'm not going to kiss you,” said Beth. “Bud went home, remember?"
And Emily got the giggles again. She took a piece of Kleenex and began to rub at the lipstick, which resisted her efforts and sat firm on her face. After a minute she gave up and stared at herself in dismay. Beth pulled open a dresser drawer and handed her a jar of cold cream.
"Not that you deserve it,” she said. Emmy clung to her and laughed. “Come on,” Beth said in a businesslike voice. She smeared cream over Emmy's face, rubbing it in carefully. “Every time she goes out with Bud, this is what happens,” Beth told Laura. “She says it's good for his morale."
"Oh, Beth, I do not!” Emily said. “I said it was good for his music."
"God, I'll say it is. When you finish with him, Em, he can play in the key of Q."
Laura didn't like to see girls drunk. She sat on the studio couch and said hesitantly, “Well, it must be sort of exotic to date a musician."
"Exotic-exschmotic,” said Emily. “He comes with the same basic equipment as any other man.” Beth laughed, but Laura saw nothing to laugh at. “Only he's the deluxe model,” Emmy added. She pulled her clothes off vigorously.
"Here, here!” exclaimed Beth. “You have to wear that again. God, Emmy, you act like you wear ‘em once and throw ‘em away!” And she rescued Emily's skirt and blouse from the floor. She pulled a towel from the rack on the closet door and draped it over Emily's shoulders, stuck her toothbrush in her hand, and propelled her firmly toward the door.
"Shape up or ship out, gal,” she said. “You're just too damn sexy.'
Emily pulled herself up regally in her underwear and said, “I'm beautiful, I'm beloved, and I have a secret."
"Well, hot damn!” said Beth, and she laughed.
Emily minced into the hall and turned back to announce, “And you're all jealous.” And she left to wash up.
"How ‘bout that!” said Beth in mock awe.
Laura looked uneasily around the room. She thought Emily had acted disgracefully and it embarrassed her to even think of it. Beth was silent for a moment and then stared at Laura thoughtfully. “Laur, honey,” she said, “you free tomorrow night?” When Laura said yes, Beth gave her a friendly smack on the rear. “Be my date,” she said. “For the movies."
From then on, they went to the movies regularly and Laura saw the old Garbo films, French imports and Swedish nature films, only to be with Beth. She often turned down parties to be able to go, a practice Beth would have stopped had she known of it. But Laura kept it carefully from her. She liked everything about the movie trips too well: sitting next to Beth in the dark theater, hearing her breathe and shift and laugh or whisper to her. The first time they'd gone to the movies together, Beth had reached over and helped her out of her coat. When Laura tried to do the same for her, Beth stopped her. “I've got it, thanks,” she said. And after that they followed the same ritual, without ever referring to it.
Then the night came when Cyrano de Bergerac was playing at the local theater. Laura and Beth had hardly been seated before Laura, saturated with the sentiment, found the tears starting down her cheeks. She could never keep them back from an affecting story. Beth
The door opened noisily and Emily burst in, laughing. “Hi, roomies!” she said.
"Jesus, Emmy!” Beth got up with a grin and walked over to her. “Let me see your face.” It was lipsticked from ear to ear and down her neck to the collar of her blouse. Beth laughed at her. “Laura, our roommate is bombed,” she said.
Emily studied herself in the mirror. “And it's indelible,” she wailed.
"Is she drunk?” Laura whispered to Beth.
"Sure,” said Beth. “She's stoned.” She took Emmy's chin in her hand and surveyed her face. Emmy submitted docilely to the examination, with her eyes shut. “Open your eyes, Em, I'm not going to kiss you,” said Beth. “Bud went home, remember?"
And Emily got the giggles again. She took a piece of Kleenex and began to rub at the lipstick, which resisted her efforts and sat firm on her face. After a minute she gave up and stared at herself in dismay. Beth pulled open a dresser drawer and handed her a jar of cold cream.
"Not that you deserve it,” she said. Emmy clung to her and laughed. “Come on,” Beth said in a businesslike voice. She smeared cream over Emmy's face, rubbing it in carefully. “Every time she goes out with Bud, this is what happens,” Beth told Laura. “She says it's good for his morale."
"Oh, Beth, I do not!” Emily said. “I said it was good for his music."
"God, I'll say it is. When you finish with him, Em, he can play in the key of Q."
Laura didn't like to see girls drunk. She sat on the studio couch and said hesitantly, “Well, it must be sort of exotic to date a musician."
"Exotic-exschmotic,” said Emily. “He comes with the same basic equipment as any other man.” Beth laughed, but Laura saw nothing to laugh at. “Only he's the deluxe model,” Emmy added. She pulled her clothes off vigorously.
"Here, here!” exclaimed Beth. “You have to wear that again. God, Emmy, you act like you wear ‘em once and throw ‘em away!” And she rescued Emily's skirt and blouse from the floor. She pulled a towel from the rack on the closet door and draped it over Emily's shoulders, stuck her toothbrush in her hand, and propelled her firmly toward the door.
"Shape up or ship out, gal,” she said. “You're just too damn sexy.'
Emily pulled herself up regally in her underwear and said, “I'm beautiful, I'm beloved, and I have a secret."
"Well, hot damn!” said Beth, and she laughed.
Emily minced into the hall and turned back to announce, “And you're all jealous.” And she left to wash up.
"How ‘bout that!” said Beth in mock awe.
Laura looked uneasily around the room. She thought Emily had acted disgracefully and it embarrassed her to even think of it. Beth was silent for a moment and then stared at Laura thoughtfully. “Laur, honey,” she said, “you free tomorrow night?” When Laura said yes, Beth gave her a friendly smack on the rear. “Be my date,” she said. “For the movies."
From then on, they went to the movies regularly and Laura saw the old Garbo films, French imports and Swedish nature films, only to be with Beth. She often turned down parties to be able to go, a practice Beth would have stopped had she known of it. But Laura kept it carefully from her. She liked everything about the movie trips too well: sitting next to Beth in the dark theater, hearing her breathe and shift and laugh or whisper to her. The first time they'd gone to the movies together, Beth had reached over and helped her out of her coat. When Laura tried to do the same for her, Beth stopped her. “I've got it, thanks,” she said. And after that they followed the same ritual, without ever referring to it.
Then the night came when Cyrano de Bergerac was playing at the local theater. Laura and Beth had hardly been seated before Laura, saturated with the sentiment, found the tears starting down her cheeks. She could never keep them back from an affecting story. Beth
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