over me with her makeup. âYou hog all the attention,â he said. âI donât know how you do it, but you do.â Then he said that he needed attention, too, and that I was a big enough girl to spend a couple of nights alone each week.
I didnât mind being by myself. Actually, I preferred it. I could walk around the house without worrying so much that I was about to do something wrong. I could have orgasms with my bedroom door open. I could read my Playboy on the couch. That was what I was doing when the doorbell rang at around nine oâclock. It was Mr. Vuoso. He was wearing a white T-shirt and jeans, and his breath had a nice beer smell. âHey,â he said. âIs your father home?â
âNo,â I said.
âWell,â Mr. Vuoso said, âhis floodlight is out. You might want to tell him.â
âHeâll be back tomorrow,â I said.
âTomorrow?â
I nodded. âHeâs over at his girlfriendâs.â
âYouâre a little young to be staying alone, donât you think?â
âI can do it,â I said.
He looked at me. âYouâre not afraid?â
I shook my head.
We didnât say anything for a few seconds, then he said, âWhatâre you reading?â
âWhat?â I said.
He nodded toward the couch behind me, and I turned around. âOh,â I said, wanting to play our game right. âNothing.â
He smiled a little. âNothing, eh?â
I didnât know what to say then, so I smiled a little, too.
âI couldnât decide which one to give you,â he said. âI just grabbed one off the top.â
âItâs my favorite,â I said.
âReally?â he said. âWhy?â
âI like the lady in the golf cart.â
âThe lady in the golf cart,â he said, like he was trying to remember her.
âHer shirt is open, but she doesnât notice it,â I said.
âOh yeah?â he said.
I nodded.
âThatâs what you like?â he said. âThat she doesnât notice?â
âYes,â I said. It made me so happy to finally be talking about this. To say things I knew only he would understand.
âWell,â he said. âDonât forget to tell your father about that light.â
âDo you want to come in?â I asked.
âNo,â he said. âI need to be getting back.â
âOh.â
âYou call us if you need anything,â he said.
âAll right,â I said, wishing I could think of something to make him stay.
âGood night,â he said, but he didnât leave.
âGood night,â I said.
He reached out then and squeezed my shoulder a little bit. Then he moved his hand down the front of me, over one of my breasts. Then he turned and walked away.
After he left, I sat on the couch and had an orgasm just from touching my breast and thinking about him. When it was over, I remembered what Melina had said, that he was a pig. I didnât think that was true. It just didnât seem possible, that someone who could make me feel so nice could also be so terrible. I liked Melina a lot, and I thought she seemed very smart, but I also thought there might be some things she didnât understand. Mostly, I believed that anything that could give me an orgasm was good. I believed that my body knew best.
Â
In the cafeteria the next day, Thomas Bradley brought his tray over to my table. âMind if I eat with you?â he asked.
I shook my head, and he sat down. He had only a thin sheen of hair, and his eyes were a much lighter shade of brown than his skin. We didnât say anything for a while, then he said, âIâm sorry I called you that name the other day. I donât know why I did that.â
âItâs okay,â I said.
âNo,â he said, âitâs not.â
I didnât know what to do then, so I kept eating my ravioli. When the bell rang,