The next Saturday afternoon I smuggled two six-packs and a pint of Peppermint Schnapps up to the Girls School, and, after twice hiding from women on horseback, Jane led me deep into the woods to a “fort” that she’d built during her freshman year. It was mid-November, and the leaves that had lit up the Berkshires a few weeks earlier had fallen and were a dull, crispy brown. The bare trees and marbled sky were smeared a milky-gray and the temperature had dipped into the mid-thirties. Most of the birds had already packed up and flown south for the winter. The only sounds were an occasional twig succumbing to gravity or the caw of a procrastinating crow crying out for directions.

The plywood roof of the fort had caved in so we sat on it and leaned against a fat oak that acted as one of the fort’s walls. After an hour of toking and drinking, we were both getting there.

“You know, Dunph, you’re kind of a strange agent,” Jane said and then sucked on the joint she’d appeared to be studying moments earlier.

“Oh, Jeezes,” I groaned. “She gets a little buzz on and starts spewing insults. Typical.”

“I mean, I mean, I didn’t mean that. I meant … you’re different from most of the guys at Cornwall. I don’t know, I guess it’s because you ain’t rich and you grew up in the city. Every once in a while the tough guy in you shows through.”

I stood up. “I’ll be right back. Mr. Tough Guy has to go wee-wee.”

When I returned to the fort, Jane was examining a moth that was perched upon her coat sleeve.

“How do you like my pet butterfly?” she asked.

“Wow, that’s a pretty one,” I said. “You’re lucky. My old man would never let me have a butterfly. Everyone on my block had one except me.”

“That’s too bad, Dunph.”

“One time when I was about nine a stray butterfly followed me home from school—a big orange one—but,” I sighed, “wouldn’t you know he goes and drops a huge load on the parlor rug. Out the door.” From my sitting position I performed an imaginary dropkick.

Jane put her head against my shoulder and began to laugh.

“Real funny,” I said. “You didn’t have to bring him to the Pound the next day.”

She looked at me affectionately. It became a staring contest. I should have reached over and kissed her right then, but I choked. The silence grew awkward and I looked away. Jane bailed me out by getting up to go to the bathroom.