“Glad to hear it. Glad to hear it.” He glanced at the darkened house across the street. “She’s gone AWOL again, hasn’t she?”

“Who? The lady who lives there?”

The man looked at Rosemary with a teasing grin. “You’re being awfully coy tonight, Ghost.”

Slightly insulted, she gave up what she knew: “She’s gone out of town, not sure where. She asked my mom to turn on her sprinklers for her. I have no idea when she’ll be back.”

His response made her blood run cold. He groaned in agony, and he cracked his knuckles. She peered past his shoulder and hoped that Arik would show.

“I’ve got something here for your trouble,” he said. He reached inside his denim jacket and pulled out a necklace with a gold, heart-shaped pendant. “Here, take it.”

“I can’t.” She backed away. “But thanks.”

“It’s even got your name on it.” He moved the pendant into the moonlight, and swung it; she saw how pretty it was—engraved with the block letters B.A.Y.

“My name’s not Bay.”

“Beautiful and young. That’s you, my Ghost. That’s you.”

Swiftly but gently, he grabbed her hand and dropped the necklace into her palm, the metal as cold as ice, then closed her fingers over it. His hands were manly and thick, and his caresses were unambiguously sensual, as opposed to Arik’s improvised groping.

“I can’t . . .”

He turned, and was gone.

Arik arrived on his bike five minutes late, hurrying and clumsy and apologetic. He seemed to her even more of a boy than ever—a sweaty, unreliable schoolboy whose breath smelled of blue Gatorade and marinara sauce.

Rosemary peeled open the window screen from her room and he climbed in with only a few nicks from the wire mesh. Before he could even kick off his shoes, they were entwined on her bed, him on top of her. His mouth covered her neck and shoulder blades with kisses; his hands grabbed her breasts under her bra.

“God, I’ve been waiting for this for, like, forever.” He pulled off her shorts and pressed himself against her.

They both stripped, kissing every time another garment came off. Then they were completely nude except for the new gold necklace around Rosemary’s neck.

“You look really hot tonight.”

The tip of his cock almost reached up to his belly button and every time it touched Rosemary’s bare skin it jerked. They threw the covers off the bed and he moved his face down between her thighs.

“I want to eat your pussy.” As those words escaped his lips, he was shocked at how lurid they sounded, and he giggled, high-pitched and girly. He repeated the line in parody Count Dracula fashion, “I vahnt to yeet your poo-see . . . I vahnt to yeet your poo-see, dahlink!”