âI sure hope I see you in class Monday afternoon.â
Julie smiled her shy smile, handed Carol the check and told Nora she had enjoyed meeting her. Nora said she hoped theyâd meet again soon and, when Julie left, took a five-dollar bill out of her purse and slipped it under the edge of her bread plate. It was an outrageously big tip, sure, but the girl was enchanting and could probably use it. Her legs felt a little trembly as she and Carol started toward the cashierâs stand. They were going to have to go right by Dick Sandersâs table. Nora pretended an indifference she was far from feeling. As they passed the table Sanders looked up. He grinned.
âHi,â he said.
He was speaking to her. Nora was dumbfounded.
âHi,â she said, never at a loss for words.
âIâm Dick Sanders. Iâve seen you around campus.â
If she couldnât win him with her fatal beauty, sheâd hook him with her witty repartee. âYou have?â she said.
âCouldnât miss a cute trick like you,â he told her.
Nora smiled at him and they moved on and Carol paid the bill. Once outside she grabbed Carolâs arm again and stumbled, feigning buckled knees. Her heart was actually palpitating. Sheâd never felt anything like this before. He had spoken to her! He thought she was a cute trick! Nora felt she might just die right here on the sidewalk.
âI canât believe it!â she exclaimed.
âI donât know what youâre so excited about, Nora. He really wasnât all that impressive.â
âSo you have no taste, thatâs your problem. Heâs a dream, Carol. Heâs the sexiest thing Iâve ever seen. He thinks Iâm a cute trick! Dick Sanders doesnât know it, sweetie, but from this day forward heâs a marked man!â
3
Julian Compton stood on the small stage with the dusty gold-brown curtains and patiently explained to the three students with him that this was improvisation and you had to think, you had to feel, you had to react. The situation he had given them was simple enough: A boy and a girl are talking in the park and another boy comes up and asks for a dollar, which they refuse to give him. The second boy had to leave the stage with the dollar in his pocket. The students had gone through it three times already with unsatisfactory results. The girl, Carol Martin, had done well enough, looking surprised when the second boy came up to them, then worried, then frightened when the boys started arguing. Perhaps she reacted just a bit too much, Julie thought, watching from the back of the classroom. Carol was a lovely girl, warm and friendly, and Julie liked her a great deal, thought her very talented, butâwell, if Julie were up there she wouldnât use quite so many gestures. She wouldnât define her feelings quite so broadly. Julie wouldnât dream of criticizing her friendâCarol was good, Julie knew sheâd never have half her talentâbut she couldnât help thinking how she would play the scene. If you were acting, people shouldnât see you acting. Not that I know anything about it, Julie reminded herself. Iâm just here on a pass. I have no business being here at all.
The boys were bad. Bud Holdredge was a clean-cut blond youth with a pronounced Bostonian accent, very Ivy League in neat slacks and cardigan sweater and shirt with buttoned-down collar. Jim Burke was a handsome, sturdily built boy with coal-black hair and intense brown eyes. He wore sneakers, faded blue jeans, an old T-shirt and a battered brown leather jacket, fancied himself the Brando type. They were two of Comptonâs best students, but he wasnât getting anything from them today. Bud was stiff and awkward, prissily refusing to hand over the dollar, and Jim slouched and mumbled and came up with lines like âHey, man, I really need the bread.â The rest of the class was visibly impressed by his
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