your robe is open. nick looks down. he pulls the robe closed, scowls, and goes into a flustered march down the path.
hel-lo, excitable boy.
no. much to the consternation of my fanatical parents i have converted to atheism. fortunately my brother, paul, paved the way for such transgressions.
buddhist, i believe, though we have not seen him in some time. i myself am looking forward to being free of parental bondage.
well, your mother seems very nice, though your father i think might be rather dim.
yes, even though i am no longer a believer i always found the services wonderfully aerobic.
nick, are you going to turn out like all the other young men and have nothing on your mind except carnal pleasures?
really? i think about it all the time. it's the hormones at work, you know. she resumes walking. nick follows her with confusion.
yes. father bought it so that he could look down upon the world. for him, christian humility has always been a struggle. sheeni relieves him of the watermelon.
well, it was nice to meet you, nick. she trudges down the slate path to the home.
what a thoughtful invitation. i'd love to, nick. wait for me in the living room.
back in a moment.
oh, father, do shut up. sheeni descends the stairs. jean cut-offs over a knockout yellow swimsuit that shows off her flowing nubility. mr. saunders grumbles. sheeni grabs up a straw beach bag and pushes nick out the door.
let's go, nick. bye, father.
would you mind applying this to my exposed areas?
my, you get turned on easily. nick's hands freeze.
oh, don't stop, nick. we all have our hormones to deal with. girls are fortunate in that it doesn't show. for all the world knows, my vagina could be moist with desire as we speak.
that's none of your business, i'm sure. shall you do my front too?
i hope you don't find it too stimulating, nick.
uh, nick. maybe you better do the top now. nick moves up, lubricating her arms, shoulders and neck. he smooths the oil on the soft undulating foothills.
thanks, nick.
breathless is one of my favorite films, though it might be eclipsed by rebel without a cause. i often wonder what american cinema would be like today had dean done more than three. nick nods, and for a beat they trek on in silence. he glances down at her hand and fumbles for it with his own.
oh, nick. you seem very nice. but in fairness, i should tell you that i have a boyfriend. nick becomes sickeningly pale.
trent preston.
seventeen years of age, six-two, fluent in french, plays the piano, a champion swimmer, and writes futurist percussive poetry. they stop at the gate to the saunders' home.
i could recite one of trent's if you'd like.
ramdam 12.  sizzle mop.  crunch down.  safety net.  hot! hot! hot!.  void. she gives a slightly amused smile at nick's blank expression.
nick? god what time is it?
come back in two hours. i'm going on a hike. you can join me if you'd like. she closes the door.
nick, where are your hiking boots, water bottle, provisions, survey maps and compass?
okay, but i have no plans to baby any slackers.
yes. not to be morbid, but this sight has been the chosen means of at least three teen suicides.
well, there is a road. but i agree. adolescents have a tendency toward the over-dramatic. sheeni backs away. nick stays, staring over the edge.
don't get so upset nick. though your handwriting is egregious, you have a fairly decent vocabulary. although, trent is not an "affected twit." nick snatches the journal out of her hands.
nick?
the lengths you say you are willing to go to to win my heart, the contemplation of suicide at the thought of not having me.  it all evokes a strong emotional warmth in my breast. nick can only stare at her sprawled out on her back as if posing for a centerfold.
did you mean it, nickie? a beat as he is lost in the ocean of her gaze before he manages to gain his senses.
you can read it if you'd like.
a necessity for a child in a household with prying christian parents.
wouldn't you like to know. that last passage would be of particular interest to you. nick leaps on top of her, grabbing her thin wrists. she squeals and giggles.
never! they wrestle, perspiring, squirming bodies brushing together. flashing super: thundering erection they pause. he's got her arms pinned. she's on her back. he hovers above her.
nickie's got a hard-on. nick considers her expression.
you're still a virgin, i can tell. maybe that's why i like you. a beat. she looks at him expectantly. nick is at a loss.
kiss me, you wienie. nick tentatively approaches her luscious mouth. their noses dodge successfully and their lips meet. after a long moment, they break it off. staring into each other's eyes. sheeni jumps up.
okay, lover. break's over. let's go! nick lays in the grass a moment, watching after her.
get up early tomorrow and you can shower with me in the ladies room. five minutes to six. if you dare. nick grins with excitement.
get out quick! still wearing her robe, she dives into the spray to save her mother. nick grabs his robe and retreats.
no. i managed to convince mother you were retarded and couldn't read the sign.
i'm sorry. but, nick, women are always discreetly late. it's expected of us.
don't complain. at least you got to shower with a naked woman. what are your plans today?
i should like to come with you, nick. the more time we spend together the better. i fear when you leave we might never see each other again. nick nods glumly. clearly a devastating thought.
look, nick! she shows him the ugly little pug. short droopy ears, a tiny, batlike face.
how much?
oh, thank you, nickie! she plants a kiss on his lips and promptly turns her attention to the dog, who licks her face affectionately. nick looks on with appropriate jealousy.
i'm going to name him albert.
i'll have you know i've named him after the deceased french writer, albert camus. author of l'etranger and other works of existential brilliance. the geezer looks to nick with an expression of "i stand corrected." nick returns with a nod that says "you have no idea."
well, your hormones certainly do. and oddly enough, my hormones like you too.
i hope that's true, but.  it's not that. it's.
it's my parents. they're.  i fear they will never allow me to keep albert.
at least you could consider it, honey. for me. i've never asked you for anything before.
that's asking a lot. trent worships the ground i walk on.
ok, nick, i guess i don't have any choice. i'll break up with trent. but if he kills himself it's on your conscience.
well, good, that's settled.
what?
do you have a condom? nick lifts his eyebrows. now we're getting somewhere!
it has to be in a safe place. a nice comfortable bed. with no threat of interruptions. and for relaxation and mood setting some good red wine, preferably french. i want a new condom. not one that's been riding around in your wallet for years. consumers rated them a while back. i suggest you get their top-rated brand. this may take some research in the library. i'd appreciate a photocopy of the article. plus, for supplementary protection, i want a name brand spermicide.
well, nick, that, of course, is up to you.
don't forget, darling. red wine and consumer reports. she smiles. they're the sexiest words nick's ever heard. he grabs her and kisses her deeply. jerry honks the horn and they break off.
nick?
i'm well, nickie.
of course, he was disconsolate, but we talked all day and he's come to see this as an opportunity for growth. oh, and nick, trent wanted me to tell you that he bears you no ill will.
his parents are sending him to a french speaking boarding school this year. he's sure to get along there. so how is my darling albert?
and you, nickie? how are you?
how unfortunate. what did he do?
really? nick, i suggest we look at your father's firing as a blessing in disguise.
i propose we get your father a job here in ukiah and you can come and live with him.
oh, nickie. now, i happen to know progressive plywood is looking for an assistant editor. it would be perfect for your father. nick furrows his brow with skepticism.
the owner is the father of a friend of mine.
okay, it's trent's father. so what?
i told you, darling. trent harbors you no ill will. i will have him call your father up pretending to be a head hunter.
you must influence her to send you away. i feel this will require being in a constant state of open revolt on your part.
i propose you rent the film rebel without a cause as soon as possible. you must emulate james dean.  close on her glossy lips.
you must be bad, nickie. be very, very bad. a glint of resolve in nick's eyes.
nick! oh, nick! nick lights up at the sight of her and they embrace. they kiss passionately. he works his way to her neck and starts to reach under the sweatshirt.
i had to sneak away just to see you.
that was you? nick, are you out of your mind?
nick, trent betrayed us.
who's franois?
i don't know, nick. i do love you, but i don't want to spend the rest of our lives on the run.
i.  i can't, nick.
i know, nick, and i've been longing for you so. but we'll just have to find another way. the car is already packed. nick nods glumly and sheeni seems overcome with remorse.
nick twisp, i will not allow you to accept defeat so easily!
did you bring the consumer reports? nick just blinks blankly.
then it will have to be santa cruz. i really must go now, darling.
i love you too. squeeze darling albert for me. she pulls her hood over her head. nick watches wistfully as she slips away into the forest.
i am writing you from my room in santa cruz. surprisingly, boarding school has proven to be a welcome liberation as well as.
a stimulating experience which i am now not so quick to change. sheeni slips into a nightgown as other girls walk around scantily clad behind her.
perhaps you should consider learning french and enrolling. that said.
english cannot be spoken on campus even if you are hemorrhaging from an accidental limb amputation.
i have made friends with the head of the girls' basketball team. her name is heather, and despite her popularity, she is saving herself for college boys. heather, a slender giantess, poses with the other members of the basketball team for a yearbook photo.
i have an interesting roommate from new york named taggarty.  taggarty, short dark hair, intense green eyes, manhattan sophistication cloaked in fragile ripeness, snaps a polaroid of a sleepy boy.
she has already slept with seventeen boys and hopes to rack up fifty before leaving here. taggarty tacks the picture to a wall covered with polaroids. she writes the boy's grade beneath his image.
trent has taken up windsurfing and has been designated target number one by all the girls. i am still very angry at him for the betrayal but he claims he wants to mend our friendship. the figure falls into the surf and the crowd of watching bikini-clad girls gasp in horror.
i guess we shall see.
nickie? nick, vijay, and lefty are noticeably shorter than the older boys around them.
nick, i knew you'd come! sheeni glances over at the disapproving matron. she leans in close.
but you must wait in the car until we can sneak you in. nick nods in understanding.
pardon me, everyone. sheeni steps into the tiny closet to change. vijay and nick regard the.
don't be silly, darling. not with others in the room. we must wait until everyone falls asleep. nick tries to appear unconcerned. she gives him a kiss and climbs into her narrow bed. as nick and vijay prepare their sleeping bags on the floor, they watch taggarty climb up to her bunk in the sky.
yes, nick?
no. beat.
it was trent. beat.
yes. he came to discuss our friendship. i told him now was not the time.
i assume he went back to the boys' dorm. now really, nickie, you are keeping everyone awake with your inquiries. though silence follows, we take a moment to allow nick's mind to race in the dark. he stands and looks at the mirror above the dresser. franois can be made out sitting by the window in the moonlight, stroking the thompson.
yes, darling.
yes, nick. nick hangs his head.
but i sent him away again. nick stares into her eyes to discern her honesty, but he finds nothing but adoration.
because i want you, darling. not even trent can match the industriousness and tenacity with which you have pursued me.
nick?
not so well. i have been afflicted with some kind of chronic fatigue.
i'm not home sick, nick. in fact, i'm not very happy with you.
you know damn well, nick. you've been spreading rumors about trent. and he doesn't deserve it.
well, whatever you said to ed solomon, it was enough to get him to give trent a black eye.
cock-blocked?
lacey? you know her?
nick. don't be gross.
tomorrow?
don't even think it, nick. you know my parents don't approve of you.
nick, you must dismiss this thanksgiving notion from your mind. i remain firm on this issue. goodbye. click. nick regards the phone defensively. he puts it down and takes a seat at the table. he glares at dwayne as they eat breakfast. there comes a knock at the front door.
i do not intend to be party to my brother's absurdities. he has allowed you in and drugged my parents.
what are you doing here, nick? i expressly asked you not to come.
you were raped by a walrus?
sex, nick. why don't you just say it? that's what you want. you want me to have sex with you.
how is my dog?
i hate you, nickie! she stands up and tries to slap him. he grabs her wrists and pulls her to him.
not long enough, paul.
trent, darling, this is nick. trent swivels slowly around and they lock eyes.
what is it?
the poor girl.
nick! you could have killed me!
you are completely contemptible, nick twisp. i never wish to see you again. with the dreadful proclamation ringing in his ears, nick leaves.
excuse me. are you a friend of nick's? carlotta looks up, startled. she composes herself and shakes sheeni's hand.
you shouldn't be, carlotta. i am no doubt culpable for nick's actions.
yes, carlotta. nick had wonderful a way of making me feel worthy of the pursuit.
would you like to stay the night, carlotta? we can reminisce of our departed.
it's just.  i don't think i could bear to be alone tonight. carlotta does her best not to look conflicted, but it shows.
do you like it? i bought it in santa rosa last fall. i had hoped to wear it for nick.
i like lying here with you, carlotta.
i can't think of anyone i'd rather lie here with. carlotta furrows her brow.
except maybe nick. if nick were here, what do you suppose he would do to me?
then why don't you?
take off that silly wig and make love to me! sheeni tugs off the wig and tosses it across the room.
of course, nick. did you really expect to fool your soul mate with such a disguise? nick swoons, grasping her gauze-glazed nakedness.
take me darling! and as they engage in a feverish kiss, rousing hymns surge. the church chorus' joyful song rings hallelujah. the two lovers are entwined before an abstract red
my parents are at services. they won't be back for hours.
what a lovely notion, darling. you go ahead downstairs and get things started. sheeni hauls herself out of bed and grabs the phone off the cradle.
calling taggarty to report that you are not completely incompetent in the bedroom.
not a chance, mr. twisp. such things are reserved for girl talk only. and for good reason. she smiles at him and he smiles back.
well, i called them of course. nick spins to face her. she's standing in the doorway and there's not a hint of wrong-doing in her face.
but, nickie, it had to be done.
i can't very well marry a wanted man, honey. look at it this way, in a few months you'll be a free man and we can be together in paris. nick looks to franois in disbelief. but the frenchman just rolls his eyes.
write often, nickie.
and don't worry about albert. he'll be waiting for you too.