Peter was in his first year of college, so he wasn’t that different from the seniors in her high school. Dallas forgave him for being an undecided major, because he had a dream of becoming a DJ. —You can’t major in music in a community college, he said, putting some of the clothes on the bed over on a chair. He awkwardly leaned on one side of the bed, over rumpled sheets. She had made out with guys in parks, under the stairwell at school. She had even fooled around with guys while Hush waited outside the door. But Peter and Dallas were alone. Alone. No one knew where she was, and no one was waiting for her.

He pulled her hair out of her ponytail. The masses of thick curls fell down to her shoulders. He curled one in his finger.

—They are like waves, he said. —Big ocean waves.

His kiss was wet and sticky from the orange juice. His tongue slathered her face and neck.

It wasn’t what he said that made her like him. It was what he didn’t say.

—Who made you? he asked, touching her skin with the back of his hand. Pressing his fingers on her lips. —They’re so full.

When his hand moved south, Dallas moved it away from her breast.

—Slow down, Peter.

—Can I at least see them? I promise I won’t touch, just look at them, promise.

—Fine, but no touching. Dallas went under her shirt and unclasped her bra and stood up from the bed to show them to him. She was ready for this. She had shaved her legs, armpits. She had borrowed some of her mother’s scented lotion and rubbed her entire body with it. She was ready to go the next step with Peter. They had met a few times and they had kissed. Long kisses. In the stockroom of Tower Records. She lifted her T-shirt, looking everywhere else but at him, two hands on each side for a clear viewing. Peter sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her by her hips and licked one breast. And then the other.

—They’re so brown, he said. —I love the color of your skin, and pressed his pale hand on her belly, making her feel uncomfortable.

—And? She was pissed off but not sure why. —You promised no touching, she said. His hands felt good but strange. As if her breast were not part of her body. His lips were cold.

—I’m not touching.

He extended his arms and sucked her nipples.

Dallas pushed his forehead away from her. And put her shirt back on.

—Happy? she said, with an eerie feeling that her father was watching her. She could hide from her mother. But her father could be anywhere.

—What’s the matter with you? Peter said. —They’re beautiful.

—Can we slow down a little?

—So what do you want to do? He looked irritated.

—We can dance? Like people do when they are alone, in the movies. You know the man, he dims the lights, and turns on some music. And he says, Can I get you anything? And the woman says, Something to drink would be fine. And they toast to something silly like life, money, health. And he pulls her to him and dances with her before he kisses her. And she moves away and gets very shy with him only to grab him and give him a passionate kiss.