“And we sang ‘Where have all the flowers gone?’—The thing is, Cathy, that my stepfather will say I have to go in the army; it’s that or Dartmouth again. I have so little time to live!” he cried out. “I feel so pent up and caught every way I turn.”

Cathy looked down at him and slowly slid over to where she could brush the hair back from his eyes and “really look at him” as she said. But this time Joel pushed her away roughly and sat up.

“Leave me alone!” he said. “I’m not an animal to be petted.”

As Cathy made no answer but returned to the window, her back to him, Joel groaned.

“If only you were away from your grandparents, somewhere, it would be different.”

“I don’t see why. What I do is none of their business.”

“Come here then,” Joel said roughly.

He took her in his arms and kissed her hard, so hard her mouth hurt. Then he kissed her again in a way she had not been kissed before, and Cathy suddenly gave a sob and pulled away.

“What have I done now? What is it, Cathy?”

“Nothing,” she said, trying to hold the tears back. “I just … didn’t know … I mean … Oh, Joel!” and she buried her face in his shoulder. “Don’t go! Don’t leave me!”

“Come here and sit down,” he said gently, “you little fool, you darling idiot child.” And he drew her to the bed and wiped her eyes with a Kleenex.

“I am an idiot, Joel … but I don’t know what I feel anymore. I’m scared of myself—of you—of the whole thing we are in, whatever it is.”

“If only we had some grass,” Joel said plaintively.

“I suppose it does help people get over being scared.”

“You’d take a puff or two and you’d feel so easy and happy, Cathy. Sex is good for people. It’s what we’re all about.”

“But, Joel, I wouldn’t want to do it that way—I mean, if it happened because I wasn’t really myself.” She was half hidden behind her hair and pulled it over her eyes like a screen. “Don’t be angry.”

“I want to feel you all over, to be with you deep deep inside,” he said, holding her hard against him. “Don’t you see?”

“We might have a baby, Joel … I wouldn’t know what to do with a baby.”

“Good Christ, Cathy, I have some sense. Give me credit for a little sense. You won’t have a baby,” he said, suddenly furious. “We’ll be careful.”

But Cathy had now begun to cry and couldn’t stop.

“It was … so good … before …” she said. “Why can’t we be as we were?”

“Life doesn’t stay where we were. Life keeps moving. Where we were was two children playing at love.”