Free April North by Lawrence Block

nipple.
    “It’s time for a lesson, April.”
    She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
    “I’m ready,” she said.
    Craig reminded her to take a shower before she went home. She relaxed under the spray of water, scrubbed herself thoroughly, rinsed the soap away. She dried herself off and dressed again. The perspiration was gone now, and the tell-tale odors of sex were dispelled. She put on fresh lipstick and studied her reflection in the mirror. There were still dark circles under her eyes, the stigmata of incandescent orgasm, but other than that she looked none the worse for wear. It didn’t show, she thought. She would have looked just about the same after an inspired evening of hand-holding in a movie theater balcony. It didn’t show.
    Craig was waiting for her in the living room. She asked him how she looked. He told her she looked good enough to eat.
    “Not now,” she said. “You’d better take me home.”
    He laughed. The car was at the curb. She settled her behind in the bucket seat and he started the motor. The Mercedes came to life and headed down the dirt road like a greyhound after a mechanical rabbit.
    “A nice night,” he said.
    “The best in my life.”
    “I was referring to the weather.”
    “Oh,” she said. The air was cool, she noticed, and the stars were bright in the black sky. There was a refreshing breeze blowing and the speed of the sports car increased the flow of fresh air. She filled her lungs with the air, watched tree limbs sway gently in the breeze. It was autumn, and the trees were losing leaves. Yes, she decided, it was a beautiful night. A glorious night.
    “You’re right,” she told him. “It’s a beautiful night.”
    ‘You’re a beautiful girl.”
    “Do you really think so?”
    “Of course. I told you I don’t lie, April.”
    “What do you like most about me?”
    He told her.
    “Oh,” she said. “I mean next to that. I’m not counting that.”
    “Why not? It’s the best part of you, April.”
    She giggled. “But you’re the only person who knows about it. What do you like next best?”
    “Your hands.”
    She had been expecting him to say that he liked her breasts next. His answer was a surprise. She looked at her hands. As far as she could see, they were just hands.
    “My hands?”
    “They’re neat and dainty and very pretty.”
    A boy like Bill Piersall would never have noticed her hands. He would have noticed only those parts of her body intimately connected with sex. Craig was different, she thought. Vastly different.
    “Thank you,” she said.
    “Don’t thank me. You were fishing for a compliment, weren’t you?”
    “I suppose so.”
    “A compliment for these.” He let go of the steering wheel with his right and hand and tapped each breast in turn. “These were what you had in mind, weren’t they?”
    She giggled.
    “Well, they pass muster, little girl. In case you didn’t know already.”
    Craig pulled the car to a stop in front of her house. He told her it was only midnight and she could not believe him at first. She felt as though she had spent at least ten hours in bed with him. He opened the door for her and walked her to her front door. She took a key from her purse and fitted it in the lock.
    “I’ll see you soon,” he said.
    He did not kiss her. She smiled and he turned and walked back to his car. She pushed the door open, stepped inside, and closed the door after herself.
    Her mother was knitting in the living room.
    “You’re home early,” she said.
    “Not so early.”
    “Well, early enough. Sometimes older boys don’t respect a young girl’s curfew. They don’t understand, being accustomed to keeping late hours themselves. But this Craig seems like a very thoughtful young man, April.”
    “He is, Mom.”
    “Your father likes him,” Mrs. North went on. “Says he has a good head riding on his shoulders. And I must say he gave me the same impression, April.”
    She kept her smile back. So her father liked