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you,” he answered.
    â€œDon’t do me any favors.” As if I hadn’t been
     waiting all night to be alone with him. I stepped into the foyer.
    Michael followed me. We took off our coats. “Did I do something . .
     . is that it?” he finally asked.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThen what?”
    â€œOh, I don’t know . . . just everything . . . thinking about
     you and Elizabeth . . .”
    â€œYou’re jealous?” he asked.
    â€œMaybe that’s it . . . I’m not sure.”
    â€œThat’s why you’ve been such a bitch all
     night?”
    â€œI guess.”
    He started to laugh. “I didn’t know you were the jealous
     type.”
    â€œI’m not!” But as soon as I said it I realized how dumb
     it sounded and I laughed too.
    â€œHey . . . I dreamed about you last night,” Michael said.
    â€œWhat was I like?”
    â€œVery sexy . . .”
    I took his hand and we went into the den. “I’m sorry I was
     such an ass tonight.”
    â€œForget it,” he said. “It’s nice to know you care.
     Just promise me one thing . . .”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œFrom now on we’re honest with each other. If
     something’s bothering you, say it, and I’ll do the same . . .
     agreed?”
    â€œAgreed.”
    â€œGood.”
    We lay down on our rug and after a while, when Michael reached under my
     skirt I didn’t stop him, not then and not when his hand was inside my
     underpants.
    â€œI want you so much,” he said.
    â€œI want you too,” I told him, “but I can’t . . .
     I’m not ready, Michael . . .”
    â€œYes, you are . . . you are . . . I can feel how ready you
     are.”
    â€œNo . . .” I pushed his hand away and sat up. “I’m
     talking about mentally ready.”
    â€œMentally ready,” Michael repeated.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œHow does a person get mentally ready?” he asked.
    â€œA person has to think . . . a person has to be sure . .
     .”
    â€œBut your body says you want to . . .”
    â€œI have to control my body with my mind.”
    â€œOh, shit . . .” Michael said.
    â€œIt’s not easy for me either.”
    â€œI know . . . I know . . .” He put his arm around me.
     “Look . . . we can satisfy each other without the whole thing . . .”
    â€œWe will . . . soon . . .”
    â€œIf I didn’t know better I’d think you were a
     tease.”
    â€œI’d never tease you.”
    â€œYeah . . . I know that too.”
    â€œYou want me to be honest, right?”
    â€œUh huh.”
    â€œWell . . . the thing is . . . I don’t know exactly how to do
     it . . . satisfy you, I mean.”
    â€œIt’s the easiest thing in the world,” Michael said,
     loosening his belt.
    â€œNot now . . .” I told him.
    â€œWhen?”
    â€œSoon, but not tonight.”
    â€œPromises . . . promises . . .”

    After Michael went home and I was in bed, trying to fall asleep, I
     thought about making love with him—the whole thing, like he said. Would I make
     noises like my mother? I can always tell when my parents are making love because they
     shut their bedroom door after they think Jamie and I are asleep. It’s hard not to
     listen. My room is right next to theirs. Sometimes I’ll hear them laughing softly
     and other times my mother will let out these little moans or call Roger  . . . Roger  . . . Even though I know
     it’s natural and I’m glad my parents love each other I can’t help
     feeling embarrassed. What would it be like to be in bed with Michael? Sometimes I want
     to so much—but