“Hey, Dunph,” she said, “how can I have a relationship with you if you’re never open with me? You don’t take anything seriously, and it kind of scares me. I don’t think you’ve ever been serious with me for more than thirty seconds. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know you. You never tell me nothing personal.”

I knew she was right, but I was in a tough spot. I was in love with Jane and wanted her badly, but I didn’t dare tell her that—on account of Mousy Town. He’d always said that the quickest way to get dumped on was to inform a girl that you love her. “Soon as you do,” he said, “they got you by the grapes and it’s only a matter of hours before they start squeezing.” Mousy said that affection was a weakness that women instinctively exploited. I felt that Jane could be an exception, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

“I still don’t exactly know why you want to move to Arizona,” Jane said. “I assume it’s got something to do with your brother, but you never explain. And like you’ve never once mentioned your mother.”

“I haven’t mentioned the Holocaust either,” I said.

“But it’s just that you never get serious. You don’t confront things, like the thing with Mort and your advisor.”

“So?”

“So you don’t improve anything. You bitch about it but you don’t do nothing. You’ve got to get more involved. Speak up.”

“Jane, would you please blow me?”

She rolled over.

“I’m kidding,” I said. “I just don’t know what you want from me.”

“Obviously.”

We lay there waiting for the mood to blow over. It didn’t.

“Listen, Jane, ever since I met you I’ve treated you like my best friend. I never hurt you or lied to you or fucked you over, have I?”

“No.”

“And these guys plan a ‘weekend with the boys’ trip, but I take you along.”

“You’re a saint.”

“I didn’t say that. I’m saying just the opposite. You see, if I didn’t take you along I’d have a lousy time myself. In a way I’m using you because my life’s dull when you’re not around. You’re the funnest person I know. Just sitting here talking to the back of your head is a blast. You’re really the greatest, Jane, and I guess I take advantage of that. But you know I’d never use you for sex. You know I wouldn’t. So do I have to come right out and say it?”

I was pulling off her panties when there was a knock on my bedroom door.

“Hey, Dunph,” someone said with a laugh, “you better get out here. Your buddy Herbie’s pretty fucked up.”