"It's hard to just say. Usual, I guess. Brown hair." "Does she know you like her?"
"I suppose so. I've taken her to a couple of the school dances. We go to the movies
sometimes. It's pretty dull being stuck down here all the time. There's not much to do."
"Oh." Barbara paused, somewhat defeated. During the silence, she twisted back and forth
several times in a way that emphasized her (unfortunately) not-large breasts.
"Is it still too tight?"
"Oh ... I guess I'm all right." Tiredly.
''When you're at college, do you go steady?" John
became a little more sympathetic.
"No, not really." ''Why?"
"I don't know. I guess I don't want to." Since this was not quite correct, she amended it. "I
mean, nobody's asked me to that I like enough. Anyhow it's more fun to go with a lot of
different people."
"Yeah," he was unconvinced. "What do you do on dates?"
"Well . . . unless there's something big going on somewhere over the weekend, I guess we
do about the same things you do. Get off campus, go downtown for dinner. Have a few
drinks at a place where everybody likes to hang out. Go to dances. You know."
"Does everybody have a car?" "A lot of them do."
"I wish I did." And then as if the thought instantly
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gave rise to another, he said, "Do they try to kiss you afterward?"
Barbara looked up quickly and caught him faintly blushing again at what he must
consider boldness. Found out, however, John did not give in to his shyness. He
continued to wait for his answer with interest, and it was Barbara who dropped her eyes
first.
Looking down at her useless hands lying beside her bare legs, she actually felt her
femaleness in relation to John no longer a matter of amusement or disbelief. It had
taken Sexy Barbara only a few minutes to prove suspicion right. The youngsters-this
one, at any rate--most definitely did regard her as having a sex, and from old habit, she
stiffened slightly. Enough of the come-on.
"Some of them do," she said with what of a shrug
she could manage.
"Do you let them?" "No."
"Really? Never? Not even when you were in high school? We do."
"Well ... ," Barbara was forced to nod. "Every once in awhile if it's someone I really like."
"I thought you didn't like any one person very much."
"Oh, you know," she said shortly, "what I mean is nice boys. Some of them are so-" She
made a wry face. "It's like wrestling a bear or something."
"Wrestling?" John was curious and interested. "Not wrestling. Just . . . grabbing and
pawing.
Girls don't like that," she said. "I hate it."
"Can I kiss you?"
"No, John, I don't want to." "Why?"
"It's silly. It doesn't mean anything that way." "Yes, it does."
''How can it?"
"Well-I like you-"
"Ah." There were a great many directions in which Barbara suddenly did not want to
see this little
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conversation develop, and in self-defense and puzzlement she fell silent.
- "Are you mad or something?"
"No," Barbara said quickly. "No. Really. It's ..• nice. I'm glad you like me but. ... "
"You still don't want to."
"Well, it's not very romantic for me"-she was a
little short-"like this."
"You couldn't stop me." "That makes it worse."
John slid to his feet and stood beside her and very much over her.
Barbara turned and looked the other way but said nothing. It was suddenly very quiet-to
her, at any rate. She expected any second for him to put the moves on her, grab her hair,
pull at her gown-it could be anything-and she decided not to make a fuss. He was right;
she couldn't stop him anyhow.
Instead, however, she felt him take her wrist and pull it around behind the back of the chair
again. "Give me your other hand."
"Oh, John, no. Please." "Give it to me."
"I don't want to. Please! It's early yet." "All right, then, don't give it to me."
"Ouch! Ow! I will, I will. But don't make it so
tight. You're doing it worse than it was."
"No, I'm not."
"But my hands are sore now .... " "I can't help it."
"Please stop. You can kiss me if you want to. I don't mind."
He had begun tightening the rope around her body and the chair. When he spoke, he
hesitated only a second and then went on with his work. Afterward and silently, he retied
her ankles to the cornered legs of the chair, cinching up on them vengefully.
Ouch, Barbara said. Damn. I pushed him away and made him mad. He's just like a man, or
men are just like children. They try and grab you and kiss you
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and run their hand up under your dress with that terribly randy look in their eyes, and you
might even let them if it weren't for green teeth braces or pimples or if a kiss would get rid
of them. The trouble is, Barbara said, a kiss never ends anything but an old movie. Quite
the contrary, she had found out: it was a place to begin with the other hand coming around
under your breast and fumbling with buttons and all the rest. And if you stopped them,
they went back to the frat house or wherever and called you frigid or did something mean
when they got the chance. Men had just one use for women, and women-Barbara, most
certainly-wanted so much more.
She watched John stand up, obviously satisfied with his work. He hurt me, he is hurting me,
that'll teach me. She thought. Moreover, he wouldn't kiss me now if I begged him. I'm dirt.
Instead he's going to let me learn my lesson well, hours of it. Barbara would have liked to
do any number of womanish things-slam doors, yell, throw something at him, slap him-but
none, of course, were possible. Instead she bowed her head, chastised, and weakly said,
"I'm sorry, John." The tone of her voice was very soft and nice, but it didn't regain anything.
Instead he was the silent one now. He stood looking her over-Barbara did not raise her
head but she could feel it--on an almost inch-by-inch basis. After a long while, he said, "I'll
be back later." Quickly, Barbara heard him out in the living room, rummaging around in Dr.
Adams' liquor cabinet. Although he had not done anything like it so far, he was obviously
going to take a drink and get himself into a teen-aged mood, So much for Sexy Barbara's
activities.
I could never be a sexy person, anyhow, Barbara said. I just don't like what happens when
everybody gets going like that.
An hour later, when Cindy came in so that he could take a swim, John's conversation with
Barbara no longer seemed as disappointing to him as it had.
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Unaccustomedly expansive after several ounces of Scotch, he even considered the talk