Free Spring Fire by Vin Packer Page B

and one stood near them, holding a glass, discussing the evening, telling about the bad roads near Cranston Creek and the way "Gloria's no fool, you know. She takes real precautions. That's what I mean about her acting older than the rest of these coeds."
    On the third floor, in the room with the banners and the signs and the skeleton hanging from the hatrack, Bud Roberts sat with a bottle and his roommate, Clive McKenzie, and Jake was there too. Bud was talking about it. About the way the girl had looked afterward, and how he felt, and their faces were serious and interested.
    He said, "It was the first time I ever got such a creepy feeling. Now, I've fooled around a lot. Plenty. But I never got such a creepy feeling."
    Clive McKenzie crushed his cigarette on the floor. "Yeah, I know what you mean. One time I had a virgin and after she —"
    "Listen," Roberts yelled. "Listen, I'm telling you it wasn't like that! You don't know what the hell I'm telling you. I'm so goddamn drunk I don't know what I'm telling you either. But this girl —she was like my dog at home after I kick her when I don't mean to but I lose my temper. Ever kick your dog and see his eyes? She was like that. I never—"
    "What the hell, Roberts. You asked for it. You said you were going to make her. I don't know why you wanted to bother with the girl anyway. She's built like a barn. You knew it Jesus, what the hell! You want us to cry in our beer over your mess? God, what an act!"
    Jake took a swig from the bottle and coughed. "Do I yell around here over troubles I got? And troubles I have got You make me sick sometimes."
    "All right, shut up! Shut up!" Roberts yelled, standing up quickly. "We got a pledge in this room. Shut up, Jake, you damn fool!"
    "You brought it up. You brought the thing up, for God's sake. What do you want?"
    "I want you to shut up about it now," Roberts answered, lurching toward Jake and grabbing his shirt He raised his arm to swing it out at Jake and Jake caught it, twisting it back until Roberts was on his knees.
    "Break it up, fellows," Clive ventured in a scared tone, stopping short when Jake let Bud free.
    Jake looked at Bud kneeling there and his anger softened. He said, "G'night, Clive, Bud. I'm going to bed. Get some sleep, men!"
    When he said "men," Clive knew that it was all right then. He watched Jake go and he turned his back on Roberts. He took his toothpaste and his brush and he swung a towel over his shoulder. Whistling weakly, he left the room and walked down the hall in the direction of the bathroom.
    After the door shut, Bud dragged himself up on the bed. He sat there, pulling his ear and looking hard at the floor. With his fist, he hit his head hard. Then he stood up.
    "Hey, you party-poopers," he called out hoarsely, "where the hell did you go? It's only one-thirty, for God's sake! Hey, you four-legged bastards, come back and finish the bottle!"
    * * *
    The light sound woke Leda. Beside her, Mitch tossed restlessly, a pulsating whimpering rising inside her. "Mitch, are you all right?"
    She opened her eyes and looked at Leda. The room was not dark, early lights of dawn casting a rusty hue over everything, and the wind from the open window was mild and steady.
    "I was dreaming. What time is it?"
    "About five."
    "I was having an awful dream. Bud Roberts and —"
    "Don't," Leda said, her arm catching the girl's waist. Mitch turned on her side, facing Leda, feeling the hand rub her back. It was quiet and warm. Leda moved her hand forward and ran her fingers lightly over the buttons on Mitch's pajama top. Then, gently, she slipped the round, plastic buttons from their loops, leaving the coat open. Almost as if Mitch knew what would follow, she held the top of the sheet back while Leda moved down and lightly kissed Mitch's breasts. A soft sigh broke free from Mitch's throat and evolved into a plaintive cry. Leda pulled herself up and her lips found Mitch's and crushed them, burning and moist.
    "Mitch," Leda whispered,