“I like you as a friend.”
I thought that was the point. “As a friend is the right way to like somebody.”
Maurey put both hands in her parka pockets. “There’s two ways I can like, Sam—as a friend or as a boyfriend.”
“And the two ways never overlap?”
She laughed. “Of course not. I couldn’t talk like this to a boy I liked.”
What could I say? I was strung out on the girl I was sleeping with but we weren’t allowed to connect except on a deeper friendship level. I’d of had to be a grown-up not to be confused.
Maurey went on as if she didn’t know she was addling me. “She’s inviting four or five couples. Her mom is making fondue, that’s where you dip food into melted stuff.”
“I know what fondue is. Who will you be there with?”
She didn’t say anything for a few steps so I knew the answer wouldn’t be neat.
“Dothan Talbot.”
I stopped and she went on a ways, then turned back. “Don’t go all freaky on me, it’s just a date.”
“But he’s our mortal enemy.”
“He’s your mortal enemy.”
“Dothan cheered when John Kennedy died. He rubbed our faces in the snow.”
“He told me he’s sorry. He was jealous when he saw you sitting with me. He’s liked me since the fifth grade.”
“Do you like him, as in boys and girls the right way.”
She came toward me. “That’s not the point. Dothan’s sixteen and can drive a car. We could double with you and Chuckette sometime. You need to get out and meet people.”
“Me and Chuckette.”
“She’s got a lot of personality.”
In my room we undressed quietly so as to not wake Lydia.
“You remember when Delores was saying she gets wet just from talking about doing it?” Maurey asked.
“Kim Schmidt tore this T-shirt in gym a couple of weeks ago. Look at that.”
“I think I know what she means. I was reading Lolita and there was this part where a real old man and a girl went to the edge of doing it.”
“Perfectly good shirt. I look like a hobo.”
“Then the author skipped like they all do, but now I know what happened next. And I got kind of excited.”
“You’re wearing a bra.”
“Don’t make a big deal out of it, Sam. If you make a big deal I’m going home.”
“Do you need a bra?”
“A young lady of sexual experience must be aware of certain things.”
“If you’re doing it, you should wear a bra whether you need one or not?”
“I need one. Or I will soon. Look at that.”
“Where?”
“Don’t be a doof, Sam.”
“Let’s stand side by side next to the mirror and see if your chest sticks out more than mine.”
We tried and Maurey was right. She did have breasts. The one on the right was a tad bigger than the one on the left. We moved to the bed.
“What’s this?” Maurey asked.
“A mole.”
“You sure it’s not cancer.”
“If it turns black and falls off it’s cancer. Right now it’s just a mole.”
“Does it hurt if I touch it?”
“I don’t think so. It feels kind of neat.”
“Touch me there.”
“Can we kiss this time? It seems weird to learn all this stuff about doing it and not learn how to kiss.”
“Have you ever kissed a girl? Move your fingers in a circle now.”
“Of course I’ve kissed girls. Loads.”
“I bet you haven’t. I bet you got screwed before you got kissed.”
“I have too kissed girls.”
“Let’s see if you can kiss. Only no getting syrupy. It’s only practice.”
I went in for what seemed like a Rock Hudson-Doris Day knock-your-socks-off smacker.
Maurey said, “Open your mouth, for Chrissake.”
“Let me try again.”
“Stick out your tongue this time.”
“Right.”
“Not like that. Move it around some. Softer, like a lick, not like you’re mad at somebody. Pretend you’re down there only the crack goes sideways instead of up and down.”
“Where’d you learn so much about kissing?”
“That one was better, only less suction and open your mouth even wider. Try to touch as much of me at once as you can.”
“I bet you’ve kissed Dothan Talbot lots of times.”
“It’s time for you to make me wet now.”
“But I’m enjoying this. Can’t you get wet this way?”
“I’m tingly. I want to see what it feels like with your tongue. Try licking your way down.”
I did Maurey’s neck and the little brown bull’s-eye tits, right first, then left. It was kind of fun, like feeding on a pool table. I played in her belly-button hole awhile until she pushed me down lower. Her breathing was different, faster.
“You’re gonna be good at this someday,” Maurey said.
“I’m good at it now.”
When I finally licked down to the taco shell, I went way to the bottom and deep for a few seconds, then up to the top where Mom had shown us the magic spot. By listening to Maurey’s breathing, I could tell what was what—when to go up or down or around, when to put on more pressure or less. I must have been at it a good while because I went into a neat Hayley Mills fantasy.
“Oh, Sam, you make me so wet. I’m nothing but a sponge under your lips.”
“Oh, Hayley Mills.”
“Oh, Sam Callahan.”
It sunk in that Maurey’s breath had jumped a pitch. Her back was arched against me and her fingers dug at my ears.
“Had enough?” I asked.
“Stop now and I’ll kill you.”
Then she went louder and moved into audible peeps. I put on some more pressure and Maurey went nuts. Made painful noises and scratched my one ear. Her spine came way up high, banged her magic spot against my teeth, then she fell back deadlike.
I stopped. “Did I hurt you?”
“Holy moley.”
“Maurey. I think we did something wrong.”
“Holy moley.”
“Can you move?”
“Come here, Sammy.”
I crawled up the bed and she put her arm around me. I lay in the hollow under her collarbone, next to her little tit. It felt nice, like maybe we were really dating now and not just practicing.
“What happened?” I asked.
“My body blew up.”
“That’s peculiar.”
“I wonder if I messed something up, like maybe I can’t have children anymore.”
“Maybe it’s the other way around, maybe we made you pregnant and that was the baby being made.”
Maurey went quiet. I put a hand on her tummy, where I imagined the explosion had created a new kid. “I better go talk to Lydia,” she said.
“She’s asleep, unless all that noise woke her.”
“She can tell me if anything like this ever happened before. Maybe it’s normal.”
“Maybe all women blow up when they fuck.”
“I don’t see how what I just did could be normal.”
“Mom’ll know, she’s experienced.”
Maurey started to slide off the bed. I sat up and grabbed her arm. “But I haven’t put it in yet.”
She friend-kissed my cheek and held my thing, “It’ll keep.”
“I’m ready to get off now.”
“This is important, Sam. Your thing will keep.”
The special that night at the White Deck was navy beans and hamhock with cornbread. I’d never had beans before we came to Wyoming. Lydia considered beans peasant food and worried about gas. The gas worry might have been for real. Personally, I was a kid, I looked forward to farts, except in class. Anyone who farted in class might as well commit suicide right there for all the bile that was heaped on him.