“Sure you can, Beth. Oh look, honey—I know you don’t owe me anything, that’s not the point. I just thought maybe you’d be willing to help me out. My God, 1 can’t even tell you anything about Socrates! That’s how bad it is.”
Beth laughed.
“Please,” he said, and she could tell again that he was smiling. “I’d really appreciate it, Beth.”
She would tell Laura as soon as she got back to the room. There would be no cause for jealousy or suspicion. What’s more practical and less romantic than a history lesson?
“Beth?”
She just liked to be with him. He was fun, he was different, he wasn’t afraid of her. It wouldn’t amount to anything.
“Hey, Beth—you there?”
“Yes. I—”
“Good,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice. “Thanks a lot, honey. See you at three-thirty. Okay?”
No breath of ulterior motives. “Okay, Charlie.”
Back in the room she told Laura, “It’s for a Classics final. I guess he’s having trouble with it.”
“He likes you, Beth.” Laura knew it right away.
“Not that way.” She laughed. “Men like Charlie don’t like girls like Beth. I’m supposed to be a real bookworm, you know. I guess I’m just a change of pace for him.”
“Well, girls like Laura don’t like girls like Beth, either. Until they fall in love with them.”
“Oh, baby!” Beth laughed and pulled the troubled face up and kissed it. “I swear I’ll tell you every word he says. And all you’ll hear is a half-hour monologue on Greek philosophers.”
With Laura watching her carefully, Beth only ran a comb through her hair before she left for the Pine Lounge. She had wanted to put on some cologne, change her sweater, freshen her lipstick—but she knew that would cause too great an eruption. She left the room with a great show of casualness and arrived at the Lounge a little early. She sat at a table with a notebook before her, day-dreaming. She looked up and let her gaze wander out the window, where it rested motionless on nothing and criticized Charlie’s face. She sat like that for almost ten minutes until suddenly a strong hand gripped her neck and she put her head back with a jerk, electrified. She laughed in spite of herself, hunching her shoulders and squirming to be free. Charlie held her firm, grinning down at her.
She said, “Charlie, don’t!” still laughing, and then she realized that he wouldn’t let her go until she stopped struggling. She froze.
He released her, tossing his books on the table in front of her.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“Are you?” She was surprised.
“Um-hm.” He took his coat off, pulled up a chair, and sat down.
“Charlie, you’ve been drinking beer,” she said, pulling away from him as if his breath might intoxicate her, and grinning.
“Brethren,” he said piously, “I repent.”
Beth laughed at him. “Okay,” she said. “What is it you want to know? As if you were in any condition to learn.”
“I’m forced to agree,” he said. “Let’s adjourn. There’s a jam session at Maxie’s this afternoon.”
“I thought you were flunking out of Classics.”
“Oh, I am.”
“Well, maybe you’d better do something about it.”
“That’s your job, honey.” He pulled out a mimeographed list of names and places and questions and handed it to her. “Explain this damn thing to me, will you?” he said.
“All of it?”
“Well—the Peloponnesian War. I can’t get the damn thing straight.”
Beth gave him a skeptical smile and then she took the list from him. “Okay,” she said. She bent over the paper and began to talk.
Charlie studied her hair and the line of her cheek, his head resting in his hand.
“You see, Sparta was up here,” she said, and he didn’t answer. “Do you see?” She looked up and saw him gazing at her.
“Mm,” he said thoughtfully and let his hand come down. He leaned forward on his arms and looked down at the paper. “See what?”
“Charlie, are you listening to me?”
“You won’t believe this, but I am. I don’t know as I’m remembering any of it, though. Let’s go over to Maxie’s, honey.”
“And let you flunk out of Classics?”
“And let me flunk out of Classics.”
“I couldn’t, Charlie, even if I wanted to. Sorry.”
“Do you want to?”
She smiled a little, wondering why he had put it that way. “I can’t,” she said.
“That’s not what I asked you, honey.”
“I have work to do.”
“So do I. So does everybody. Don’t you ever play, Beth?”
“Charlie, I can’t go.”
“Half an hour?”
She laughed helplessly. “Ohhh,” she groaned, flattered, and gave him a deploring look. “No!”
“Half an hour it is,” he said. “Where’s your coat?”
“Charlie—” she protested, but the situation struck her, and her laughter took the starch out of her protest. She did want to go. She obviously wanted to go. But she thought suddenly of Laura and her own good intentions, and turned cold.
“Where’s your coat, honey?”
“Upstairs.” Laura was tormenting her. “Charlie, I—”
“Come on, we’ll go get it.”
“I can’t go, Charlie.” She tried to make it sound serious and final.
Charlie stood up and pulled his jacket on and grabbed his notebook. He hustled Beth out of the lounge and down the linoleumed corridor to the elevator.
Beth leaned against the wall of the elevator while he pushed the button and it started up. “I wish you’d believe me, Charlie. I can’t go.”
He leaned on the wall beside her, one arm over her head, and looked down at her. “I wish you’d tell me why. You keep saying you can’t go. Why can’t you go?”
“All right, I’ll give you a good reason. Mitch. What about Mitch?”
“What about him?”
“He called me this week, you know. Or didn’t you know?”
“I know.”
“And I turned him down.”
“Um-hm.” He didn’t seem in the least perturbed.
“Charlie, he’s your best friend! I agreed to see you only to help you out of a jam. Not to go out and drink beer with you.”
“Am I supposed to apologize for asking you out for a beer?”
The elevator doors pulled open and they walked out slowly. “How would Mitch feel?”
“He expects it.”
“He expects it? Well, damn it, Charlie, what are you up to? What
