on his bed. Jennifer watched him do it, but incoherently; crazed with aching, she just wanted the feel of him.
And she got him. Jen managed to wrap her hands around him, seconds before he thrust himself inside her, and her only thought was, My God, it is so big, is this what they are all like, this big?
‘Oh, you are so wet.’ He groaned. ‘You are so ready for me.’ She could only groan in response; she was here with him, under his smooth wide chest, with his big muscled arms propping him up, with all his blond hair falling into his beautiful drunk face above her. She was here with him, and her readiness just did not matter, for she had fallen so hard for him, she had been perpetually at the ready.
Jack had had a lot to drink, and it took him forever to come. They tried this and that. Jennifer even went down on him, as incredible as that was: she had never even seen one before tonight. There was a certain pleasure in that, Jennifer thought, as she rubbed him with her hands. He is my first everything. Jack went down on her; she got on top of him; he got behind her; then he got a mirror and brought it to the bed so that they could see themselves. He asked her to touch herself; then he asked her to touch him. Finally they had come full circle and he was on top of her again. It had not hurt at all for him to take her virginity from her, for she was not a virgin in the strictest sense. But now, after strenuous intercourse, Jennifer had come back to earth and began to feel some physical discomfort. Discomfort or not, however, all Jen thought of was making him last, and if he whittled her genitalia away by his thrusting, it would be worth it, to feel him above her, to be lost in space, to be lost in Jackspace.
He came, finally! collapsing on top of her in a sweaty heap and promptly falling asleep. Jennifer did not care.
Jack was wet and heavy. His hair, all matted up, clung to his head. His breathing was uneven; his legs were between her legs. I think mine are asleep, Jennifer thought. They’ve been open for so long, I must look like a frog ready for dissection. Jennifer stroked Jack’s legs with hers. She ran her fingers on his back and kissed his temple.
How long did she lie there awake? What did she think about? Nothing. Nothing, and everything. She thought about having sex with him again, she thought about him kissing her on the street and impossibly about taking her to the prom. She thought about having used no contraception, about it not even occurring to her to use any. He didn’t ask her and certainly didn’t wear any himself. She thought about being pregnant, and laughed. And then she thought, I love him. I am in love with him. I love him. This is what it feels like; this is what it’s all about. This is the only way I want to feel when I have someone above me. This is what I want to feel when I look up into someone’s face, and if I don’t feel this, I feel nothing. Everything else is an illusion. Jennifer continued to lie there stroking his back lightly with her fingertips, thinking of the years they had been friends. Remember softball, Jack? Remember Shunga Park? Before you became a football captain? You remember those days? And then she fell asleep.
Jack was still on top of her when he woke up. He quickly got off her, mumbling an apology, and then went into the bathroom. When he came out, he pulled on a pair of shorts. Sitting on the bed next to her, Jack rubbed his temples.
‘Jen, it’s six o’clock, are your parents going out of their heads?’
My parents? Me, I am going out of my head.
‘Yeah, I guess.’ Jennifer smiled at him and Jack smiled wanly back.
‘Do you think you should go?’
‘If you think I should go, I will. Otherwise I can call them.’
Jack seemed surprised. ‘You can call them? The only child and daughter of Italian parents, you can call them at six in the morning and say – say what?’
Jennifer thought for a moment. She did not want to go.
‘If you think I should go, I will,’ she repeated dully.
Jack did not reply, but he did not look at Jennifer, either.
‘Okay,’ she said, getting up out of bed, still completely naked. ‘I understand totally.’
After she got dressed, Jack, clad only in a pair of shorts, walked her to the car. His hand rested on her shoulder. ‘Listen,’ he said. It was freezing cold. ‘I apologize. I really needed and wanted to do this. I’m glad we did. I hope you understand.’
She understood. Of course. She stretched her lips into what she hoped was a smile and not a grimace, and Jack bent down and kissed her on the cheek. ‘I’ll call you,’ he said. ‘Be careful driving back.’
Jennifer drove off, and drove and drove. Instead of going home, she drove to Lawrence, drove around the Kansas University campus, drove to Eudora, drove to De Soto, where she sat in front of a barren cornfield, lost in a timeless vacuum. Then she drove to Tully’s house. Came around back and threw rocks at Tully’s window until one of the rocks hit the sleeping-at-her-desk Tully on the head.
‘Come on, you light sleeper, let me in,’ said Jennifer from below.
‘You almost killed me,’ said Tully, opening the front door. ‘Where have you been? Your mother is frantic.’
‘Okay, I’ll call her,’ said Jen. ‘After we sleep. Let’s sleep.’ Jennifer undressed to her underwear and climbed into bed.
Tully spooned Jennifer and softly said, ‘Jennifer, I know that smell. I recognize it. You smell of a guy.’
‘Tully,’ whispered Jennifer, ‘ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.’
Tully said nothing and lay there for two hours wide awake until Hedda came into the room, saying there was a half-crazed Mrs Mandolini on the phone. Jennifer talked to her mother for a few minutes and then climbed back into bed and pretended to sleep.
6
In February, Mr and Mrs Mandolini went to a parent-teacher conference and sat grimly with Jennifer’s math teacher, Mr Schmidt, while he told them about the ‘big problem’ with Jennifer and about Jennifer’s performance in school.
‘There is nothing wrong with our daughter’s work, Mr Schmidt,’ said Lynn. ‘She is under a lot of pressure,’ she continued, not giving him a chance to interrupt. ‘You know she applied to Stanford, and you’ve seen her SAT scores; it’s just too much for one teenager to take.’
Mr Schmidt was shaking his head. Tony flared up a little. ‘What? Problem, problem! Why are you trying to make some kind of a big deal out of this? I don’t get it. Is it personal?’
Mr Schmidt took a deep breath before speaking. ‘Mr and Mrs Mandolini. Lynn. Tony. I’ve known you now for the three years Jennifer’s been with us – you know how I feel about her. No, of course it’s nothing personal. The only personal thing I feel toward Jennifer is affection. However, her work and her lack of interest in her work gravely concern me.’
‘Well it doesn’t concern us,’ said Tony. Getting up, he turned to his wife. ‘Let’s go.’
‘Tony,’ said Mr Schmidt, cracking his knuckles. ‘Wait. Do you understand, that Jennifer’s math grades have slipped from a ninety-nine average last year to an eighty-two in the beginning of this year, and by the second quarter…’ he paused again, ‘well, you saw her
