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younger brother.”
    â€œThat would be fun . . . but he
     doesn’t.”
    â€œKath . . .”
    â€œHmmm?”
    â€œWhat were you two doing in your bedroom?”
    â€œNothing . . . Michael just wanted to see
     it.”
    â€œCome on, Kath . . . I won’t tell
     anybody.”
    â€œThere’s nothing to tell.”
    â€œI know all about sex.”
    â€œCongratulations!”
    â€œWere you fucking?”
    â€œJamie!”
    â€œThat’s not a bad word . . . hate and war are
     bad words but fuck isn’t.”
    â€œI never said it was.”
    â€œSo were you?”
    â€œNo . . . I wasn’t . . . but
     even if I was I wouldn’t tell you.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œBecause it’s none of your damn business . . .
     that’s why.”
    â€œOh wow . . .” she said, clucking her tongue, “your
     generation is so hung up about sex.”

6
    â€œHow’d it go with Artie?” I asked Erica on Monday. We
     were in zoology, classifying mollusks.
    â€œI’ll tell you how it went,” Erica said, “. . . it
     didn’t!”
    â€œHe never showed up?”
    â€œOh, he showed up all right.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œStill nothing . . . not even a kiss.”
    â€œWeird.”
    â€œAnd I’m sure he likes me. He asked me to his school play . .
     . he’s got the lead.”
    â€œI heard. I’m going with Michael.”
    â€œI know . . . Artie said he’ll arrange for you two to bring
     me.”
    â€œFine.”
    â€œIf he doesn’t try anything after the play I’m going to
     do something about it. I can’t sit around waiting forever.”
    Mr. Kolodny looked up from his desk. “Will you girls in the back
     please stop talking and get to work.”
    I pulled a sheet of notebook paper, wrote Like what? and shoved it at Erica.
    She wrote back, Something drastic!
    On the night of the play Michael, Erica and I sat together in the fourth
     row of the auditorium at Summit High. The play was Butterflies Are
     Free and Artie played the blind boy trying to make it on his own. Michael was
     right—Artie really surprised me. He was as good as a professional. Somehow, he
     seemed different on stage—more sure of himself. He made me forget he was Artie
     Lewin, game freak.
    Sybil played his mother and Elizabeth played his girlfriend but they
     couldn’t compare to Artie. It didn’t help that Sybil looked fatter than ever
     and kept fidgeting with her gray wig. Elizabeth’s costume consisted of the
     world’s skimpiest bikini and when she first came on stage Erica nudged me with an
     elbow. For some stupid reason I felt I had to say something to Michael—something
     to show I’m not the jealous type. So I leaned over and whispered,
     “She’s very pretty.” How did I ever think up such a clever remark?
    â€œUh huh,” Michael said.
    When the play ended Artie got a standing ovation.
    â€œI had no idea . . .” Erica said over and over. “I just
     can’t believe it.”
    â€œMe neither.”
    â€œI told you,” Michael said. “It’s the most
     important thing in his life.”
    As I watched Artie take another bow I could see that
     Michael was right again.
    We tried to go backstage but there were two teachers in charge of keeping
     everyone out since the custodians were anxious to lock up the school for the night.
     Erica said she’d wait for Artie and that we should go on to the party.
    I wasn’t looking forward to going to Elizabeth’s house and
     facing her close up. But there was nothing I could do about it without being obvious.
     Besides, how would Artie feel if his best friend didn’t show?
    Elizabeth’s house was on a street a lot like mine. Her mother
     answered the