things; but that part of him was being pushed further and further back in his mind.
Then he was beyond that point. Something happened inside him, some ancient relay clicked on, and he reached over to her, losing at the touch of her what little control he had left. Fay's lips were parted, her eyes unfocused. She was panting.
Suddenly her clothes seemed to melt away, and they were nearly fighting each other. Mark's notes and papers scattered.
Somewhere off in the distance there was the drone of the slide narration and the click-click of the changing slides.
And then it was over.
Mark's breathing slowed to a pant and then to evenness. With the same fluid motion she had used climbing out of her clothes, Fay got back into them and was gone. There was the hiss of the audiotape running out; the only light was the naked brightness of the projector beam on the empty screen.
Mark rolled slowly into a sitting position and struggled into his clothing. After gathering his scattered papers together he stumbled out of the theater to find Fay sitting at her desk.
"I have to close up now," she said, not looking up at him. Her tone was different now, almost chilly.
"Fay—" he began, but then the same embarrassment that had possessed him the first time he had met her overcame him and he stopped. Once again, he felt as if he were seventeen years old.
She wouldn't look up at him.
He walked quickly to his car, forgetting even to put on his overcoat. Jesus Christ, he thought, what have I done? It was obvious she had planned to seduce him all along. Or was it? He certainly hadn't tried to stop her. He thought of Ellen and guilt began to set in.
What the hell am I going to do now?
He opened the car door, thinking to go back in and straighten it all out with Fay immediately, but then closed it again. It was no good. They were both too upset to do anything about it now.
He shook his head and looked through the windshield. The sky was beginning to darken noticeably. The days were getting shorter and shorter.
Lust at first sight, he thought.
This time he didn't laugh.
10
W hen Kaymie walked into the auditorium they were all staring at her.
Her heart sank. She had thought this would be different. She could almost understand all the cold shoulders she had gotten in class; after all, she was the new kid on the block and they all had a right to check her out. But this was a drama club. They were supposed to welcome her here. Ms. McGreary had been on her from the very beginning to join, telling her it would be a good way to break the ice, and here they were giving her the chilly stare the first time she came to a rehearsal.
She almost turned to walk out, but Ms. McGreary was there then, walking down the aisle to bring her in.
"Kaymie!" she said, smiling. "We've been waiting for you."
I bet, Kaymie thought. She recognized a couple of the hostile faces waiting by the stage. Some of them were in her classes. All of them up to now had made believe she didn't exist.
Ms. McGreary escorted her up the aisle. Halfway there she reached out to take Kaymie's arm but then pulled back. "I'm so glad you came!" Her smile seemed forced.
What have I got, rabies or something?
Again Kaymie wanted to turn and run but now it was too late. They were all standing there in front of her, and a silence had dropped on them.
"Well," Ms. McGreary said. She kept rubbing her hands together as if there were something on them she wanted to get off. "I think we can get right to the tryouts. You all know we're doing A Midsummer Night's Dream. Why don't you all get your paperbacks out and turn to your places?" She turned to Kaymie, and for a moment there seemed to be a genuine smile there. "Did you memorize the part I talked with you about?"
Kaymie nodded, and once more Ms. McGreary's smile shifted to a nervous fluttering.
"Good," she said, turning and quickly mounting the steps to the stage and disappearing behind it. After a moment a bank of spotlights flashed
Then he was beyond that point. Something happened inside him, some ancient relay clicked on, and he reached over to her, losing at the touch of her what little control he had left. Fay's lips were parted, her eyes unfocused. She was panting.
Suddenly her clothes seemed to melt away, and they were nearly fighting each other. Mark's notes and papers scattered.
Somewhere off in the distance there was the drone of the slide narration and the click-click of the changing slides.
And then it was over.
Mark's breathing slowed to a pant and then to evenness. With the same fluid motion she had used climbing out of her clothes, Fay got back into them and was gone. There was the hiss of the audiotape running out; the only light was the naked brightness of the projector beam on the empty screen.
Mark rolled slowly into a sitting position and struggled into his clothing. After gathering his scattered papers together he stumbled out of the theater to find Fay sitting at her desk.
"I have to close up now," she said, not looking up at him. Her tone was different now, almost chilly.
"Fay—" he began, but then the same embarrassment that had possessed him the first time he had met her overcame him and he stopped. Once again, he felt as if he were seventeen years old.
She wouldn't look up at him.
He walked quickly to his car, forgetting even to put on his overcoat. Jesus Christ, he thought, what have I done? It was obvious she had planned to seduce him all along. Or was it? He certainly hadn't tried to stop her. He thought of Ellen and guilt began to set in.
What the hell am I going to do now?
He opened the car door, thinking to go back in and straighten it all out with Fay immediately, but then closed it again. It was no good. They were both too upset to do anything about it now.
He shook his head and looked through the windshield. The sky was beginning to darken noticeably. The days were getting shorter and shorter.
Lust at first sight, he thought.
This time he didn't laugh.
10
W hen Kaymie walked into the auditorium they were all staring at her.
Her heart sank. She had thought this would be different. She could almost understand all the cold shoulders she had gotten in class; after all, she was the new kid on the block and they all had a right to check her out. But this was a drama club. They were supposed to welcome her here. Ms. McGreary had been on her from the very beginning to join, telling her it would be a good way to break the ice, and here they were giving her the chilly stare the first time she came to a rehearsal.
She almost turned to walk out, but Ms. McGreary was there then, walking down the aisle to bring her in.
"Kaymie!" she said, smiling. "We've been waiting for you."
I bet, Kaymie thought. She recognized a couple of the hostile faces waiting by the stage. Some of them were in her classes. All of them up to now had made believe she didn't exist.
Ms. McGreary escorted her up the aisle. Halfway there she reached out to take Kaymie's arm but then pulled back. "I'm so glad you came!" Her smile seemed forced.
What have I got, rabies or something?
Again Kaymie wanted to turn and run but now it was too late. They were all standing there in front of her, and a silence had dropped on them.
"Well," Ms. McGreary said. She kept rubbing her hands together as if there were something on them she wanted to get off. "I think we can get right to the tryouts. You all know we're doing A Midsummer Night's Dream. Why don't you all get your paperbacks out and turn to your places?" She turned to Kaymie, and for a moment there seemed to be a genuine smile there. "Did you memorize the part I talked with you about?"
Kaymie nodded, and once more Ms. McGreary's smile shifted to a nervous fluttering.
"Good," she said, turning and quickly mounting the steps to the stage and disappearing behind it. After a moment a bank of spotlights flashed
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