I gave myself a pep talk, determined not to blow the next opportunity. I downed two or three slugs of Schnapps and took a deep breath. When Jane headed back toward the fort, I stood and leaned against one of the spongy plywood walls. She walked up to me so that our toes were touching. We gazed into each other’s eyes again, only this time we locked onto something more comfortable. Jane looked happy but somehow a sad whimper squeaked out of her. She kissed my cheek. Then she dropped her head. I couldn’t believe how beautiful she looked. My heart was thumping so violently I could feel my eardrums banging away. I kissed her on the mouth. Not a sloppy, wet, passionate kiss but a slow, cautious one. I tried holding my breath for as long as possible; partly because I was panting like a pervert but mostly because I was afraid that if I released my lips I’d never feel this good again.

Later that evening, Jack, Waltham, myself, and a few guys who lived on Jack’s hall snuck out of our rooms and hiked up the mountain to camp out. I learned two important lessons: First of all, that I didn’t know tiddly-shit about camping in the mountains, and secondly, that those guys did.

I’d heard everybody talking and, still pumped from my evening with Jane, I grabbed a blanket off my bed and joined the movement. Little did I know that each of the other guys had $250 down sleeping bags geared for moonlike temperatures which could be folded into the approximate size of a deck of cards. Thirty degrees feels like thirty below when you lie still for a few minutes in a jean jacket and a tattered blanket. I froze my grapes off and ended up throwing wood onto the fire all night just to survive.

I woke everyone at five, and in the pre-dawn light we marched quietly back to campus. At the morning assembly, our names were called and we were ordered to report to the back of the auditorium. For some reason Funderburk had instigated a 3 A.M. bed check. Because of the unusually large number of offenders and the calm, seemingly rational disposition that Fundy exhibited that day, it seemed as if commuted sentences were in order. When we were hit with nine hours each, Jack commented on Fundy’s highly suspect sexual preference and received an additional three hours for insubordination.

After Fundy had left, I pointed at Jack and said, “You better watch your mouth around that guy. I guarantee that his bite is worse than his bark.”

Jack smiled and said, “We’ll see about that.”

It was on the third day I was working off the hours that S.D. Stuart hurried up to me and asked if I had any pot.

“No,” I said, “but I got some primo heroin.”