. It had been a comfortable weekend, to be sure. They'd ended up spending most of it up in Jon's room, studying, practicing, replying to incredulous phonecalls and e-mails from their friends, and trolling Craigslist for job offers and such, coming out only for the necessities of food and church on Sunday. They'd also gotten 'distracted' (as Caitlyn liked to think of it) by each other on a fairly regular basis. She was still rather reticent about the whole thing--there was something fundamentally icky about sex--but it always felt incredibly good, and there was something good about the ickiness as well. Though she tried to resist--and even succeeded at times!--inevitably she would get drawn back to him, to his body and his kiss and that wonderful hardness between his legs, and then something would happen, and there'd be another used condom to dispose of and she would have to try and remember where she'd left off with her work. Good thing the church music had been easy.The good news. She actually seemed kind of tiny now, but I remembered, in high school, I was just about the same height and weight as she was. I watched her as she read the menu, the reading glasses she wore on the tip of her nose. She was even more beautiful now to my eyes than the memory image I had of her in our senior year. As I decided to find out for certain if I was correct and stood, I again felt that peculiar flutter in my stomach, the same feeling I remembered having when I asked her to the homecoming dance, when I was a smallish 15 and shy. I walked the 25 feet to where she sat, glancing over at Miss Wild Child, who had turned in her chair, and was giving me a sly come hither look, complete with a steady opening and closing of her legs, the classic motion of a wild child who was looking to fuck, but not trying to seem to earnest to anyone else around. I gave her a subtle head shake to the negative, and watched her face go to a frown as I looked away toward the table that was my.
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