***

That night Stony picked up Annette for dinner. He was moody and silent. Chubby's little talk yesterday was like a pebble in his shoe.

Stony humped away, but his heart wasn't into it. Finally, he began to lose his hard-on. Annette stared up at him, nervous beneath his automatic-pilot thrusting. Stony pulled out, rolled on his back shielding his eyes with his arm. Annette lay next to him wondering what the hell happened, where he went to.

"You didn't come?" She leaned on her side, facing him.

"Yeah, I came."

"Don't bullshit me, you did not." Annette had a broad, freckled face. Her eyes were the slightest bit crossed, that and the fact that she had the disarming habit of licking her lips whenever she talked to a guy she liked gave the impression that she was always dizzy with lust.

"How do you know?" Stony raised his arm from his face.

"When somebody comes in you, you know it."

"You know, Annette, when you talk like that, you got no class." Stony absently played with her long red hair, then dropped his hand to his side.

"Oh! Excuse me, Mister Firstnighter! I din't notice any cuffs on your underwear."

"Now you talkin'stupid. I just meant, ah, forget it." Stony sat up and reached for his cigarette pack wedged between the bed and the wall. Annette sat up and took one from the pack. "Hey, Annette, how many guys you ever slept with?" She leaned away from the offered light. Stony mistook the blush of anger in her face for guilt.

"I don't know," she answered coldly.

"More than ten?"

"You mean this week? Or just the weekend?"

"See that shit? There you go again!" Stony stared at the smooth stumps of two fingers on her left hand.

"I don't like questions like that, Stony." She started dressing.

"What the hell you gettin' so defensive about! I just ast you a simple question. Whadya got, a guilt complex or somethin'?"

"A guilt..." Annette froze, half-dressed. She was beside herself with rage. Bewildered and furious at the sudden change in Stony, she looked at herself, then at him. "What the hell am I gettin' dressed for! I live here! You get dressed!" She pointed a finger at Stony. "An' get the hell outta here, you goddamn nowhere asshole!" Stony casually ditched his cigarette, slipped into his jeans and shirt. "I ain't nowhere." Stony tucked in his shirt. "I'm just somewhere you ain't." Inside, his guts were falling apart. He felt like a little kid slugging his best friend in the back of the head just to see what would happen. As he sauntered to the door, he threw one out: "Give my regards to the janitor."

"The who?" Annette stood in her panties and unhooked bra staring incredulously at Stony.

Stony tried to look flip and cool but felt the bile shooting up. He left quickly, quietly closing the door behind him.

Dazed and in pain, Annette looked around her for a clue to what had just happened.