They reached the house and Charlie took her up the walk. Mitch leaned out of the car and called, “Hey, tell your roomie hello for me,” and Laura ignored him. Charlie just laughed at him; Mitch admired all sorts of girls but he rarely had the guts to ask them out.
At the door Laura turned and faced Charlie, and began to talk before he said a word. “Charlie, we’re having a Christmas party—a dance—two weeks from today. An afternoon dance. Would you—would you be able to come?”
Charlie was trapped. There were always excuses for evening parties but what the hell was there to do in the afternoon that was more important than a dance? And he had only seconds to think of something. He saw the little tremor in Laura’s lips, her timidity and distress. There was a letter at home on his desk from his father that read, “Glad you met the Landon girl. Just heard about her family—too bad. Give her a good time if you can. Probably needs some cheering up.” Still he hesitated. And then suddenly Laura came so near to tears that he said swiftly, “Why—I’d like to, Laura. Thanks.”
His reticence stung and humiliated her, but at least he had said yes, and it was worth it to keep him and Beth apart. He smiled at her to make it up a little and gave her arm a friendly press. “I’ll call you,” he said. And Laura had to dash into the house without answering him before she lost the last of her composure.
Six
Laura went heavily up the stairs and into the room. Beth was in her pajamas. She looked up at Laura with a smile as innocent as if she had spent the whole evening playing checkers with a maiden aunt. Laura stood staring at her, her face drawn and pale, and Beth’s smile changed to a frown of concern.
“Hi, honey,” she said. “You look pretty glum.”
“I’m tired,” said Laura briefly, and turned away to hang her coat up. She was too proud, too hurt to tell Beth what the trouble was—and she was too afraid.
Beth watched her for a moment in silence, and then she said, “What’s the matter, Laur?”
“Nothing!” Laura snapped. She got ready for bed in resolute silence; Beth couldn’t get a word out of her.
When Laura came back from the bathroom she found the studio couch opened out and made up like a bed. Beth was stretched out across it with her eyes closed and one arm lying across her forehead. Laura felt a sudden creeping shyness with her.
“Laura,” Beth murmured sleepily.
Laura turned her gaze abruptly away. “Yes?” she said.
“It’s awfully cold in the dorm.”
Laura glanced back at her, her hand poised halfway to the towel rack. “It is?” she said.
“Um-hm…. Want to sleep in here?”
Laura hung up the towel nervously. “But you’re sleeping in here,” she said softly.
“There’s room for two.”
“Oh, I—I think Til be okay in the dorm.” She felt suddenly a little panicky; she didn’t know why.
Beth rolled over on her stomach and opened her eyes. She was smiling a little. “‘Fraid of me, Laura?” she said.
“No,” said Laura, trying to make it sound very casual.
Beth bounced up and down invitingly, laughing a little. “Come on, then. It’s nice and warm in here.”
Laura didn’t know what to say. She opened her mouth and shut it again and then she turned around and looked at Beth, as if that might give her something to answer with. “Well—” she hesitated.
“I knew you would.” Beth grinned at her.
Laura tried to remember that she was mad at Beth. “I don’t think I will,” she said severely.
Beth turned over on her back again and laughed. “Open the window a little, honey,” she said.
Laura opened it slowly and the fresh cold air came in. Then she went to the dresser and reached for the lamp cord.
“Laura,” Beth said in a drowsy voice.
Laura turned around, startled.
“Come here, Laur.”
Laura stood still and gazed at her, wondering if she heard right.
“Come here, honey,” Beth said. “No, leave the light on. Come sit here where I can see you.”
Laura walked slowly to the bed with a strange alarm growing inside her and sat gingerly on the edge. She was trembling a little. Beth reached for her arm and said, “Move over, Laur. Let me see you.” Laura moved closer unwillingly and trembled again.
“Are you cold, honey?”
“No.” Her voice sounded too small for the rest of her.
“What’s the matter, Laur? Did I hurt your feelings or something?”
“No.” Laura clamped her hands together and stared at her knees.
“Tonight, I mean. I was acting kind of silly with Charlie, wasn’t I?” Laura refused to answer. “I was a little tight, I guess. I didn’t mean anything by it.” She hardly knew why she said this, why she felt the need to say it to Laura. It was almost as if she were reassuring herself that it didn’t mean anything, when in reality she wasn’t sure at all. “You know that, don’t you, Laur? Don’t you?” She wished she knew it herself.
“I—I hardly noticed it,” Laura said, clinging to her pride. Her arm felt like fire at the place where Beth’s hand rested.
“Yes, you did. You’re upset, I can tell. Laura, baby, it didn’t mean a damn thing, believe me. Who’s Charlie? My God, I hardly know him.” Her voice was lovely and gentle; it almost persuaded Beth herself. She sat up and put her arm around Laura. “Honey…” she said. “Am I forgiven? Hey, Laur?” It was a teasing whisper. She lifted Laura’s chin and Laura wanted to press her hands to her pulsing temples.
“Yes,” she whispered, ashamed of her weakness.
Beth squeezed her and smiled. “Okay, you can turn out the light now,” she said, and released her.
Laura got up and her knees were precariously weak. She hadn’t time or strength to analyze the sudden violence within her. She pulled the lamp cord and let the darkness in. And then she stood perfectly still for a moment, knowing she
