MAKING AMENDS

   


   CHAPTER ONE

   STEVE



   We landed in New Orleans around suppertime on Friday, February 20th.



   `We' is me--I'm Steve Werner--and my two best friends, Al Curtis and
Mike Odette.  We were all juniors at Michigan State.  This was our first
Mardi Gras, so we'd been looking forward to it for some time.



   My older sister, Marie, had been to Mardi Gras a couple of times, so
she'd told us what to expect.  We knew what we wanted to do and where we
wanted to go, so we were planning on a good time.  We'd all just recently
turned 21.  Scuttlebutt has it that there isn't a whole lot of carding that
goes on at Mardi Gras, but we were happy not to have to worry about it in
any case.  Hey, we wanted to drink, right?  And, this year, getting out of
the horrible Michigan winter sure was a huge bonus!



   Anyhow, we landed, got to the hotel, and headed out.  There was a parade
in Uptown, not too far from the French Quarter, so we headed to that first.
We knew that parades were a good place to get beads--they threw them off
the floats--and beads were, after all, the `currency' of Mardi Gras.  We
wanted to scoop up a handful for later bartering.



   The parade was a blast.  We had a great time, got caught up in the
festive atmosphere, and scooped up a ton of beads.  The floats were
colorful and fun.



   After the parade, we headed towards the French Quarter, the center of
the `action' at Mardi Gras.  Especially action of the
drunk-and-debaucherous type.  Hey, we were young college students, what
other kind of action would we be looking for?  So, we headed towards the
Quarter.  And, oh my god, the crowds!  Marie had warned us about that, but
you really did have to be there.  It was just a jam-packed sea of people.
Al, Mike and I stuck close together, trying not to get lost.



   But it was a great atmosphere.  Everybody was happy, and it was a big
party.  It was crowded, and festive, but not riotous.



   We, of course, started drinking.  Pat O'Brien's is a famous bar in New
Orleans.  Marie told us Pat's was the place to get an honest-to-goodness
Hurricane, so we tried a couple.  Then we found this hole-in-the-wall place
that sold jello shots.  And that's all the sign said: ``Jello Shots''.  No
name of the place, just Jello Shots.  It was funny.  And the jello shots
were cheap and good.



   Mildly buzzed, but not hammered, we decided to walk down Bourbon Street.
You know, checking out the girls.  And, man, were there tons of girls to be
checked!



   We quickly found out the whole ``show us your tits!'' thing was no myth.
It was easy to find girls willing to bare the boobies in exchange for some
beads.  I swear, Mardi Gras was magical--too bad it wasn't that easy to get
a girl to lift up her shirt back at Michigan State!



   Just as I voiced that thought to Al and Mike, something very funny
happened.  A few feet in front of us, we caught sight of a girl wearing a
Michigan State shirt.  And she was in the process of raising said State
shirt!  Someone had yelled ``Show us your tits!'' and the girl in the State
shirt was about to do just that.



   She was only about five feet away--and, suddenly, I found myself staring
at the most perfect set of tits I'd ever seen in my life.  Now, God knows I
haven't seen an amazing amount of tits--considering I never saw a single
bare one until my freshman year at State--but I'd seen enough, and I knew
what I liked.  This girls' boobs, I liked.  Not too big, not too small.  A
set of nice, quarter-sized, pink areolae.  Nice, prominent, erect nipples.
A smattering of freckles across the top, that was endearing.  These were
hall-of-fame boobs, let me tell you.



   I was wondering if the face was equally as appealing, so I looked up.



   And found myself looking right into the eyes of a face I'd hoped I'd
never see again.



   Damn.  A million people at Mardi Gras, and I had to run into Suzanne
Adair!  Damn, damn, damn.



   I tried to quickly turn away, but I was too late.  She'd seen me, and
recognized me.  ``Steve?'' she asked.



   I just turned and made my way through the crowd.  I had to get out of
there.



   My buddies caught up to me.  ``Hey, pal, what's wrong?'' Al asked.



   ``That was Suzanne.''



   ``Ah,'' Mike said, understanding.  They knew all about Suzanne.



   ``You OK?'' Al said.



   ``Yeah.  The world is too fucking small.''



   ``Well, let's just keep walking, then,'' Mike said--but it was too late.



   ``Steve?'' I heard.  She had caught up to me.



   ``Yes, Suzanne?'' I said, not too kindly.



   ``Uh, well, I just thought it was funny, us meeting up here and all,''
she said.



   ``Yeah.  Riotous,'' I snorted.



   ``I mean, we live in the same town.  And someone told me you go to
Michigan State, too.  And we haven't seen each other in years.  And we meet
here!'' she said.



   ``Well, if I'd known you were going to be here, I would've avoided you
like the plague, like I try to at home,'' I blurted.



   ``What?''



   ``Oh, come on, Suzanne, don't pretend you don't know why I hate your
guts.''



   She looked flummoxed.  ``But......but that was 10 years ago!  We were
kids!''



   ``And it never went away,'' I told her.  ``You got out and went to that
private school for seventh grade--but it followed me, right through high
school.''



   ``We met him when he first got to State,'' Al said.  ``He was a mess. 
You did a number on him.''



   ``You know he didn't even have a date until he got to college?'' Mike
added.  ``And we practically had to twist his arm.  All because of what you
did.  He told us all about it.''



   She looked back and forth between my two buddies.  And, dammit, she
looked like she was going to cry.  I did not want this bitch to try and
make me feel sorry for her!



   ``Goodbye, Suzanne,'' I said--and we stomped off, leaving her there.



   I didn't care.  Fuck her.  Just fuck her.  She singlehandedly made my
middle and high school years a wreck.



   Then, why couldn't I forget the tear in her eye?  Or how gorgeous her
breasts were?



   Damn.



   CHAPTER TWO

   SUZANNE



   I had no idea.  I really didn't.  I still didn't quite understand.



   Look, I know I didn't handle things well, but, hell, I was eleven!



   It was the summer before sixth grade.  We had just moved, and I didn't
know anyone.  3 days after we moved in, I headed to the local park, looking
for company.  That's where I met Steve.



   He lived four streets over from me.  We were the same age.  He was sweet
and nice and cute.  Hey, I was eleven--I was just barely starting to notice
this thing called `boys' and I wasn't quite sure what to do with them.  But
I knew one thing--I really liked this one.



   We spent all summer together.  Every day was a joy.  Steve was my first
crush--and I mean big-time.  Eleven year old boys aren't usually as aware
of that stuff--girls mature quicker--but I knew he liked me.



   Then school started.



   I was the new kid, right?  I just wanted to fit in.  And I was a girl,
so I wanted girlfriends.  But my best friend was a boy.



   Remember--we're talking sixth-graders.  When my new girlfriends figured
it out, I was teased mercilessly.



   I tried to deal with it--I tried to keep things separate.  I badmouthed
Steve to the girls, and hung out with him the minute their backs were
turned.



   But then we got caught.  And, worse, we were holding hands, a habit we
had picked up over the summer, and one I liked.  A lot.  It made me all
warm and fuzzy.  But my girlfriends saw this, and I got grilled.  Of
course, I told him that he had taken my hand and I didn't know what to do.
Of course, this was a blatant lie--for one, though he did sometimes take my
hand, this time I had taken his.



   Based on my lie, though, they gave me advice--slug him.



   Which I did.  The next time we were together, and he took my hand, and I
could see a couple of the girls out of the corner of my eye.  I hauled off
and belted him in the shoulder.



   Poor Steve, of course, didn't know what was going on.  I tried to make a
joke out of it to him.



   It got worse.  I hit him a few more times, anytime he came close to me
when the girls were around.  And then I went further.  Getting taunted
again about being ``Steve's girlfriend,'' I blurted out, ``Girlfriend? 
That fag doesn't want a girlfriend, he wants a boyfriend!''



   Steve was already being called pussy because `he let a girl beat him
up.' (In reality, he was too much of a gentleman to hit me back.) Now he
got called `fag', too.



   Don't for a second think I'm proud of this.  I saw him getting teased
and wanted to kick myself.  I said some of this stuff and wanted to take it
back before the words were halfway out of my mouth.



   And I always wondered what if.  I dated enough, throughout high school
and college, and I still wondered if I had blown something that could have
been special.  But I was a stupid kid, afraid of being `the new kid' and
obsessed with popularity.



   After that year, my parents sent me to private school.  Isn't that a
laugh?  I'd spent a year beating down on my best friend because I was
afraid of being `the new kid'--and, here I was, the new kid all over again.
Anyhow, after I left, I lost touch with Steve.



   I thought all of this would go away when I did.



   I needed to talk to him.  I made a vow to find him when we got back to
school.  It turns out--I didn't have to.  I was standing in the lobby of
the hotel, waiting for my friends to catch up, when in he walked.



   I took a breath, marched up to him, and said, ``Steve?  Can we go
someplace and talk?  Please?''



   CHAPTER THREE

   STEVE



   After we left Suzanne, I tried to get back into the Mardi Gras groove,
but it was useless.  Suzanne had spoiled my mood.



   That girl was very good at fucking up my life.



   I tried, I really did--and Al and Mike tried their best to help--but it
was no use.  I left them to their reveling and made my way back to the
hotel alone.



   This was not the plan.  I'd wanted to come to Mardi Gras to party.  This
was what it was all about, right?  Do some serious drinking, see some bare
titties, maybe even get lucky with the owner of one of those sets of
titties if the opportunity presented itself?  That's what I came here for.



   And here I was slinking back to the hotel, depressed and alone.  Thanks
a whole fucking lot, Suzanne.  Again.



   So I traipsed backinto the hotel, down in the dumps.  And who the fuck
do I run into the minute I step into the lobby?  Suzanne!  Jesus, she was
even in the same fucking hotel!



   And she wanted to go someplace and talk.



   Somewhere along the line, I managed to pick up some really fucking bad
karma.



   I lost it.  ``Go somewhere and talk?  Jesus Christ, Suzanne, are you
trying to torment me?

   You fucked up middle school.  You fucked up high school.  Now you're
trying to ruin my Mardi Gras!  Just go the fuck away, would you?''



   I should've known it.  I should've fucking predicted it.  She started
crying.  And then she started pleading.  ``Steve, please!  I didn't mean
any of this!  I don't understand how it happened!  PLEASE!''



   I'm a sucker.  I'm also not an asshole, my contempt of her
nothwithstanding.  I gave in.  Maybe, I figured, I should have it out with
her once and clear the deck.



   ``Fine.  You win.  We can go up to my room.'' With three of us coming
together, one of us got a single room.  That was me.  Subject to be
swapped, if either Al or Mike needed it to get laid, but they weren't here.



   ``OK,'' she said--sniffled, actually.  Damn females and their
waterworks. We went up in the elevator--didn't say a word on the way.  I
led her into the room.  It had a table with a couple chairs, so there we
sat.  I grabbed us a couple cokes from the fridge.



   ``You wanted to talk?'' I started.  ``Fine.  Start with answering this.
Why?''



   ``Peer pressure,'' she said miserably.



   ``Peer pressure?!?!?''



   ``Well, now I see what it was,'' she said.  ``I got teased about you. 
Look, I was the new kid.  I was trying to fit in.  I wanted friends.  When
I made them, they gave me shit about you.  And I tried to work both sides
against the middle, but I fucked up.''



   ``I'll say,'' I snorted.



   ``Come on, Steve, cut me some slack--I was eleven!  I mean, what did you
do?  Didn't your friends tease you about having a quote-unquote
girlfriend?''



   ``I didn't have a lot of close friends.  I was kind of a loner, an
outsider.  I wasn't picked on--not up until that point, anyway--but I was
shy.  I kept to myself.  You were the first person that pulled me out of my
shell.'' She blinked at that.  ``Anyhow, I got teased a little.  I don't
know--maybe it's because they weren't close friends and I really didn't
care.  So if anyone said anything, I just told them to lay off my
girlfriend.  Which is how I thought of you.  In a sixth-grade kind of
way.''



   ``You were sticking up for me?  And calling me your girlfriend?'' she
said.  I nodded.  ``Oh, man.  And there I was......''



   ``Now you get the picture.''



   ``But I don't understand what happened after I left.''



   ``It never went away!  Look, Suzanne, you know it was a small town. 
There were, what, 70 kids in our class?  All through middle school and high
school.  There was no place to hide.  And you had firmly established what I
was--a pussy, a fag.  That's what I remained until I got out of there.



   ``I know some of it was my fault.  I didn't stand up for myself
particularly well.  And, at first, I was very depressed.  I felt you
betrayed me.  That's what hurt worse at first.  By the time I realized what
else was going on, it was too late.



   ``This didn't end until I got out of high school.  College has been much
better.  Al and Mike convinced me that I wasn't quite the loser I had
started to believe myself to be.  And I've had a few girlfriends.  Nothing
that's lasted, but it's given me some confidence.  I'm not hopeless
anymore, though I still hate going home for the summer.



   ``So, now you know.''



   She stared at me for a good minute.  I thought she was going to turn on
the waterworks again.  On the contrary, she was desparately trying to hold
it in.  Finally, she looked at me, and said, ``If there were any way to
take this back or fix it, I would.  And if apologies weren't so damn
inadequate, I'd offer one.  In fact, I will anyway.  Steve, I'm so, so,
sorry.  I don't know what else to say.''



   She got up out of the chair and headed for the door.  That's when I saw
a couple of tears, big fat ones, roll down her cheeks.  She kept her voice
controlled.  ``Thank you for telling me.  At least now I know.  I truly am
sorry.  I'll never bother you again.'' With that, she was gone.



   CHAPTER FOUR

   SUZANNE



   I'd never been punched in the gut--but I can imagine the feeling is
similar to what I felt when I walked out of Steve's room.  I thought I was
going to throw up.



   I'd kept up this illusion--that it was just a childish folly, that it
went away when I did, that the hell that I knew I was putting Steve through
only lasted the year.  What a lie.  And the illusion that I was, basically,
a good person--that was gone, too.



   God, I felt like such scum.



   I wasn't able to hold the tears back by the time I got back to my room.
Meredith, my best friend, was my roomie for the trip.  She was there when I
got back.  ``My God, Suzi, what's wrong?''



   Haltingly, I finally got it all out.



   ``Jesus,'' she said, ``and he chooses now to drop all this on your
head?''



   ``I pushed it,'' I said.  ``I'm the one that demanded to talk to him. 
I'm the one that went up to him in the lobby after he'd made it clear how
he felt about me, out there on Bourbon Street.  I can only blame myself.  I
can only blame myself for a lot of things.  Damn, I'm such an asshole.''



   ``Suzanne, listen to me!'' Meridith barked.  ``You are not an asshole!
You might've done something terrible--but you were eleven years old! 
You're not an asshole now.  Plus, I think you're all too easy to blame.  It
sounds like this guy's a complete loser and has been finding it easy to
blame you for his own shortcomings.''



   ``He wasn't a loser when I knew him,'' I said.  ``When I was doing all
these terrible things to him, he wasn't a loser at all.  No, that was me.''



   ``Sounds like a loser to me,'' she said.  ``I mean, he got called names
and that ruined his life?  Poor baby.  He sounds like he is a pussy.''



   ``That's not fair!'' I hissed.  ``How would you like it?  I've never had
to be the outcast--being the new kid is the closest I ever came.  I didn't
have to put up with scorn.  I don't know how it feels.  I don't know what
it was like to be him.  I doubt it was pleasant, though.''



   ``OK, maybe so,'' she conceded.  ``I just hate to see you taking blame
for all this.  Most people would've recovered from it.  If it haunted him
for six years after you left school, it wasn't all you.''



   ``Yeah, I guess,'' I said, ``but I started it.  What was worse, I think,
is that I knew I was doing it.  I hated it when I was doing it,
Meredith--and I couldn't stop.  I've put it behind me until now--but don't
think I was proud of myself when I was doing it.'' Then I admitted it. 
``And I had such a crush on him.''



   ``Oh!'' Meredith said.  ``Now I see why you're beating yourself up, a
little better.  But, Suzi?  It really was a long time ago.''



   ``I know.  I know.''



   ``Put it behind you.''



   ``I'll try.''



   I went to bed that night but didn't exactly sleep soundly.  It's hard
enough to sleep in a hotel room.  My rampaging guilty conscience made it
harder.



   CHAPTER FIVE

   STEVE



   I don't know, I guess after Suzanne left, well--the wind went out of my
sails.



   I'd stored up so much hate for her over 10 years, that it'd infected me.
I almost relied on it--for strength, or something.  But it wasn't a happy
strength.  And now it was gone.  Seeing those tears roll down her face as
she apologized--well, I just couldn't keep it up anymore.  It just seemed
so.....irrelevant.



   It was rather like a slap in the face.



   I didn't sleep well at all that night.  I felt guilty.  I felt like I
had held her responsible for too much--and that I'd put too much energy
into it.  Honestly, even though I'd spent years avoiding her, I think part
of me wanted that confrontation.  I wanted to throw it in her face, to
sacrifice her on the altar of my despair.  I wanted her to hurt, like I
did.



   So, I did.  And she did--hurt.  And I didn't feel liberated.  I felt sad
and disgusted.



   She did a very nasty thing, yes--and it had repercussions that she
could've never dreamed of, yes.  But, for the first time....well, I looked
at those tears tracking down her face, and, for the first time, I said to
myself--she didn't do this.  Something she did might have set it in motion,
but she didn't do it.  And she certainly didn't mean it.



   I tossed and turned.  I might have slept a little.  When I finally
dragged myself out of bed, I made a decision.  I went down to the lobby and
found out what room she was in.



   I went and knocked on the door.



   It wasn't Suzanne that opened the door.  ``Yes?'' the unknown brunette
said.  Then she said, ``YOU!''



   ``Is Suzanne here?'' I asked.



   ``What the fuck do you want with Suzanne--you gonna make her cry
again?''



   Damn, I didn't want to get into this with a roommate.  ``Please, just
tell her Steve is here and would like to see her.''



   I saw a patch of blonde hair peek at the corner of the doorway. 
``Steve?''



   ``Hi, Suzanne.  I'd like to talk.  I thought maybe we could get
breakfast.''



   ``Uh, OK, but I'm not dressed.''



   ``You want me to wait or you want to come up to my room?''



   ``You can wait.  Meredith, entertain him, will you?''



   ``I will not!'' the roommate--Meredith, obviously--said.



   ``Meredith,'' Suzanne sighed.  ``Look, Steve, come in--I'm going into
the bathroom to get dressed.'' She disappeared, and I went in, hesitantly.
I sat in a chair.



   ``Look, I know you've been carrying around some kind of grudge for
umpteen years, but you destroyed her last night!'' Meredith said.



   ``Look, Meredith is it?  Look, this is between she and I, OK?'' Meredith
harrumphed, and made herself busy doing not much of anything except
shooting glares at me from out of the corner of her eye.  Luckily, Suzanne
came out shortly--wearing a pair of jeans and another Michigan State tee
shirt.



   I pointed at it, laughing.  ``You got a collection of those?''



   ``Yeah,'' she laughed.  ``Ready to go?''



   ``Sure.'' We went down to the restaurant in the hotel and got some eggs
and stuff.



   ``Need foodstuffs to prepare for the mad drinking later to come,'' she
laughed.



   ``No doubt,'' I agreed.



   ``Yeah.  So, what did you want to talk to me about?'' she said.  ``I
figured after yesterday I'd never see you again.''



   ``Just to apologize,'' I said.



   ``Excuse me?!?!?''



   ``I took too much out on you.  It really wasn't your fault.  I'd been
letting this build up for too long.''



   ``OK,'' she said.  ``I still feel bad about what I did.''



   ``Like you said, it was ten years ago,'' I told her.



   ``OK,'' she said.  Then, obviously changing the subject, she grinned,
and said, ``So, you noticed the Michigan State shirt yesterday?''



   I blushed and grinned.  ``Yeah.''



   ``What's the blush for?'' she asked.



   ``Well, what I really noticed was what was under the Michigan State
shirt.'' She blinked, blushed, and cracked up laughing.  ``That's why I
didn't run away the minute I saw you.  Because I wasn't looking at your
face.'' She laughed louder.



   ``Hey, it's Mardi Gras, right?'' she laughed.  ``Seemed like the thing
to do.  My girlfriends thought I was nuts.''



   ``Believe me, I wasn't complaining,'' I admitted.  That made her laugh
some more.



   ``Look, since we seem to be trying to put this past us,'' she said after
she'd calmed down, ``would you like to hang out today?''



   I thought about it, and then said, ``OK.  I don't know if your roommate
will like that, though.''



   ``If she doesn't, we'll ditch her,'' Suzanne giggled.



   The roomate was actually fine, after Suzanne talked to her.  I met their
other two friends, Jen and Brittney.  I introduced them to Al and Mike.  We
all set out together.



   There was another parade uptown--two, in fact, one at 11:30 AM and one
at 1:00 PM.  The girls hadn't been to a parade yet, so we set out for it.
We stopped for a couple Jello Shots first, though, just to get into the
swing of things.



   Of course, when we got on Bourbon, the rallying cry went out.  ``Show us
your tits!'' Suzanne laughed, and said, ``I did it yesterday, it's someone
else's turn.'' So her friend Brittney lifted her shirt up.  She had a very
nice set of tits--not as nice as Suzanne's, though.



   We finally got to the parade route, and we kind of all split up.  Al and
Mike went in pursuit of some girls they'd spotted.  Suzanne's friends just
kind of drifted off.  Suzanne and I stayed together.  We'd been chatting
the whole time and, to my shock, I was really enjoying her company.



   One of the floats went by, and there was a big, dumb-looking guy on it.
``My God, that guy looks like Grady Allenson!'' Suzanne laughed.



   ``Oh, Jesus, Grady Allenson,'' I said.  I'd gone to school with him all
12 years.  ``There's one person I do not miss.  What an asshole.'' I
noticed Suzanne blush and squirm at that.  ``OK, what was that for?''



   ``I, well, I dated Grady Allenson.''



   ``You're kidding,'' I said.



   ``Nope.  Wish I was.  We dated Sophomore year.  Of the big huge fucking
mistakes I've made in my life, that's probably the top of the list,'' she
said with a sigh.  ``I even let him...you know.  He was my first.  And it
was the disaster to end all disasters.''



   ``God, Suzanne, what were you thinking?''



   ``I do not know,'' she laughed.  ``We went out for six months.  Don't
even ask me what I saw in him, because I have no idea.  After...you
know...it broke up quickly.''



   ``Jeez, you had shitty taste when you were younger.''



   ``Actually, when I was younger, I had excellent taste,'' she said with a
little gleam in her eye.  ``That summer before sixth grade, for instance. I
think that was my good-taste highlight.  It was after that that I blew
it.''



   ``Uh....'' I stammered like a fool.  She just kept grinning at me. 
Before I could say anything, she shouted ``Beads!'' They were flying fast
and furious, so I grabbed some.



   She managed to grab a couple sets, but, looking in my hands, I saw that
I'd plucked out a prize.  I held them up to her, grinning.



   ``Michigan State beads?'' she gasped.  ``Ooooh!  I want!''



   I looked right at her, and grinned, ``Show us your tits, then.''



   She looked right in my eye, grinning, and deliberately lifted up her
shirt.  I got a nice, good, long look.  The guys around us were hooting and
hollering, but she made plain that this was a show for me.  And I got the
distinct impression that the beads were only part of the reason.



   ``You like?'' she said.



   ``Oh, yeah,'' I blurted.



   ``My beads?'' I handed them over, and she--very slowly--let her shirt
drop back to where it should be.  She pulled the beads over her head. 
``Thank you very much.''



   ``Uh...yeah,'' I stammered.  I had a hard-on like you wouldn't believe!



   Over Suzanne?  Oh, man!



   CHAPTER SIX

   SUZANNE



   I was having such a good time!



   I think Steve was, too.  It seemed like, after having finally dealt with
the events of 10 years ago, the weight of the world was lifted off us.  I
know that's how I felt.



   And, I have to admit, I felt a delicious thrill showing off my boobies.
I'm pretty free with stuff like that--but baring myself in public was a new
thing.  And I'd done it twice.  And that time was a command performance for
Steve.  I loved it!



   After the parade was over, we started heading back towards the French
Quarter.



   ``So, what are you majoring in at State?'' I asked him.



   ``Business Admin,'' he said.  ``You know, it's kind of a catch-all;
leaves my options open.'' I nodded.  ``And yourself?''



   ``Elementary Education,'' I told him.



   ``Ah, gonna teach the little kiddies?''



   ``Yeah,'' I laughed.  ``Though I prefer the older little kiddies.  I'd
like to teach fourth or fifth grade.''



   ``Ah, so the boys are just getting to be old enough to notice how hot
the teacher is,'' he laughed.



   ``Hot?  Me?''



   ``Yes, you,'' he grinned.  ``Hell, you were hot when you were eleven. 
Of course, you didn't have those things back then,'' he said, pointing at
my tits.  ``They just make you hotter.''



   I looked at him for a minute, then laughed.  ``You know, it's funny. 
You haven't changed--and where you have, you've loosened up.  I'm a little
surprised--you know, after what you told me.''



   ``College helped a lot,'' he said.  ``It's been fun.  I have good
friends.''



   ``Girlfriends?'' I teased.



   ``None at the moment.  There's been a few, but they haven't worked out.
You?''



   ``Ditto,'' I said, and grimaced.  ``At least I had a few nice ones, and
found out that not all guys are as hopeless in bed as Grady Allenson.''



   He laughed, and said, ``Hey, we all make mistakes.  My first time was
shortly after I got to State.  You know who with?  Andrea Watson.''



   ``Yeah, you and half of Michigan State,'' I laughed.



   ``Exactly.  Though I didn't know that at the time.''



   ``Oh,'' I said, realizing.  ``You thought you were special.''



   ``Right.  And, as far as Andrea's concerned, special is defined as
`possessing a penis'.'' We both giggled at that.  ``Ah, well, live and
learn.  Hey, what happened to your friends?''



   ``Dunno.  We lost them at the parade.  Your friends, too.  I guess
you're stuck with me.''



   ``Guess so,'' he said, with a huge grin.  Wasn't that nice!



   We spent the whole day together.  It was awesome.  When we got back to
Bourbon Street, we even held hands.  So we wouldn't get separated, of
course.  Or something like that!  It felt nice, in any case.



   Of course, this was Mardi Gras, so something else happened--consumption
of alcohol.



   We were just having a blast, hopping from bar to bar.  We were drinking
slowly enough so that we weren't sloshed or anything, but we were feeling
pretty damn good.



   I got it again at one point.  ``Show us your tits!'' Two guys with a
whole bunch of beads.  So I did.  What the hell?  They got a good look at
my boobs, and I got another set of beads.  Steve was amused--until he saw
exactly what beads they were.  The two guys had seen the Michigan State
shirt, had assumed I was from Michigan, and had given me some Detroit Red
Wings beads.



   Steve was a fanatical Red Wings fan.



   ``Gimme!'' he said, trying to get them away from me.



   ``What do I get if I do?'' I grinned.



   ``What do you want?''



   I leaned in to his ear and whispered, ``Show us your dick!''



   He cracked up laughing, and said, ``They turn their backs on topless
stuff, but I'm pretty sure if I dropped trou, I would get arrested.''



   ``Too true.  You'll just have to think of something else, then.''



   We spent the whole day and evening together.  After a while, we stumbled
into this bar called the Cat's Meow that had karaoke.  We both got up and
sang.  Steve was actually decent.  I was less than decent, but it was fun,
anyway.  Then we went back to drinking.



   We ended up at the outdoor bar at Pat O'Brien's, sipping Hurricanes.



   ``So, how are your parents?'' I asked him.



   ``Great.''



   ``I always liked them.''



   ``As parents go, you can't beat them.  Are yours still the same?''



   ``Yeah,'' I sighed.  ``I love them, but, yes, they still drive me
crazy.''



   ``Do they know you're here?''



   ``Yeah,'' I grinned, ``and they're not at all happy about it.  `All that
debauchery!' Mom hissed.  But I'm 21 and I paid for the trip by myself, so
they can't say much.  Mom would be scandalized if she knew I was baring my
boobies in public.''



   ``No doubt,'' he laughed.



   I took a sip from my drink.  ``Steve?  I can't thank you enough.  For
forgiving me, and for coming to my room this morning.  I've had more fun
today than I've had in ages.''



   ``Same goes,'' he said.  ``I've had a blast.  You're great company.''



   I think that did it.  I just didn't want the night to end.  And, yeah, I
was a little drunk.  Not incoherent--I knew what I was doing.  But I was,
well, loose.



   When we stumbled back to the hotel, arm-in-arm, giggling--well, I just
went to his room.  He didn't ask me to, I just did.  It was like it was
almost second nature.



   We ended up on the bed, still giggling.  Then he said, ``I still want
those Red Wings beads.''



   ``You want these?'' I said, holding them up away from my chest.  ``Fine.
Kiss me!  And it better be a good one!''



   He grinned, and then kissed me.  And, oh my, it went way past `a good
one.' It was an earth-quaking bone-shaking one.  My heart went KABOOM!  My
toes curled.  It was absolutely stunning.



   When we finally broke the kiss, I pulled the Red Wings beads off of me
and put them around his neck.  ``This seems almost inadequate for that,'' I
laughed.  ``If I'd known you were that good a kisser, I would've kissed you
when we were eleven.''



   ``I doubt I was a good kisser when I was eleven,'' he laughed.



   ``Well, fine, then.  You can make up for lost time,'' I grinned.  He
did. And how!



   So, we were sprawled all over his bed, making out, when his hands went
for the hem of my tee-shirt.  I didn't even think twice.  I helped him get
it--and my pile of beads--off.



   I wanted this.  Oh man, did I want this.  To this day, I don't know if
it was the alcohol talking--but, as I said, I wasn't sloppy drunk.  I knew
what I was doing.  And I knew what he was doing after he got my shirt
off--playing with my boobs.



   ``Oh, man, I've wanted to get my mouth on these things since I first saw
them yesterday,'' he gasped, and then he did just that.  I felt his lips
pull at my erect nipple, and I moaned.  His hand was fondling my other one.
I was so turned on.



   I didn't wait for him.  While he was nibbling on my tit, I shucked off
my jeans--and panties.  God I was hot!  He quickly realized I was
completely naked, and his hand crept up in between my legs.  Oh, yeah!



   And, then before I knew it, his mouth was in between my legs--and wasn't
that fun!  I'd only had that done to me a couple times, and it was, you
know, OK.  Nothing fantastic.  I'd kind of written it off.  Well, Steve was
showing me the error of my ways.  He had me flying.  It was incredible! 
It's like his tongue was everywhere!



   I felt myself building up, but, as much as I was enjoying the
tongue-lashing, I didn't want to cum that way.  I wanted to cum with him
inside me.  So, I hissed, ``Steve!  Fuck me!''



   He was still dressed, so he knelt up and started pulling off his
clothes, very quickly (thank goodness!).  After he got his pants off, I saw
him reach for his wallet--and pull out a condom.  Jesus!  Good thing he was
thinking straight, at least partially, because I sure wasn't!



   Then, suddenly, he was inside me.  And it was glorious.  And he didn't
just start banging away at me, either--he started slow.  It was perfect, he
was building me up, bit by bit.  I was already heading there from the oral,
but this was perfect--it just strung it all out.  I felt everything.  I
started tingling, from my head to my toes, and it just built, and built. 
Then he sped up a little, and it just kept building.



   And, when I came, it was the best ever.  I just exploded.  I even made
noise.  I'm not vocal at all during sex.  Believe me, it's not that I don't
enjoy it--I'm just not vocal.  But, I heard myself, right at the peak, go,
``uuuuuunnnnngggggggggGGGGGGSTEVE!  AYEE!'' and I could hardly believe
myself.  I would've almost been embarrassed, but I think it turned Steve
on. Well, either that, or my pussy doing the mambo around his dick, one of
the two--because he came right after I did.



   That went right to the top of my personal sex list.  By a lot.  It was
unbelievable.



   Anyhow, the combination--a long day, all that booze, mind-blowing
sex--had me completely wasted.  Steve, too.  We very happily fell asleep in
each other's arms.



   CHAPTER SEVEN

   STEVE



   I woke up Sunday morning.  First, I was completely disoriented.  You
know how it is in hotel rooms.  It's not your room, so you've got to kind
of blink a little before you remember where you are.



   And, that morning, I had to blink a little again to remember who I was
with.



   Suzanne.



   God.  How weird was this?  I actually slept with Suzanne.  I spend ten
years hating her--and in two days, I'm in bed with her.  It just felt
strange.



   And she was snuggled into me, still fast asleep.  It was good, and
strange, all at the same time.



   In any case, I really had to go to the bathroom.  So I did my best to
disentangle from her without waking her up, and got up.  When I came out
from doing my thing, she was lying there, looking at me.  ``Where'd you
go?'' she asked.



   ``The morning constitutional,'' I smiled.  I sat down on the edge of the
bed.  I was trying to act normal, but I obviously wasn't pulling it off.



   ``Is everything OK?'' she asked.



   ``Yeah.  I guess,'' I couldn't help saying.



   ``Are you OK with what happened last night?''



   I decided to be honest with her.  ``I don't know.  I'm confused.''



   She sat up--and the sheet fell off of her bare boobs, an unwanted
distraction to say the least!  ``I thought you wanted it as badly as I did.
You weren't that drunk, I didn't think.''



   ``No, I wasn't that drunk; and, yes, I did want it.''



   ``But now you regret it,'' she said sadly.



   ``No, not regret.  Like I said, I'm confused.  First of all, I really
don't do stuff like this.''



   ``You mean jump in bed with someone at the drop of a hat?'' she smiled.



   ``Yeah,'' I chuckled.



   ``Steve?  Neither do I.  I'm as surprised by it as you are.  And, no, I
wasn't overly drunk either.  I just wanted it, badly.  I don't regret it at
all.  It was wonderful.''



   ``It was,'' I agreed.  ``You're amazing.  I don't know.  It just feels
weird.''



   She looked down.  ``Part of you still resents me.  Maybe even hates
me,'' she said quietly.



   ``No,'' I argued, ``not at all.  It's just that I did resent you until a
very short time ago.  I'm stunned by how quickly this happened.  Plus, this
isn't a meet-at-Mardi-Gras pickup.  What happens when we go back to school?
What happens when we go back home?  I'm just confused, is all.''



   ``You don't trust me,'' she said sadly.



   ``It's not that.  It's that I haven't known you for ten years.''



   ``Yeah,'' she agreed.  ``Well, I think it's my turn,'' she said, and got
up and went to the bathroom, gathering her clothes with her as she went. 
When she came back out of the bathroom, she was dressed.  ``I think I'm
going to go back to my room and take a shower there, and stuff,'' she said,
very subdued.  ``I'm going to hang with my friends today, I think.''



   ``OK,'' I said.  She walked over to me, kissed me, smiled, and was gone.



   CHAPTER EIGHT

   SUZANNE



   I wasn't upset when I left his room.  I was confused.  As confused as he
was.



   Jeez.  I woke up euphoric, and ended up confused.



   Part of it was my fault, I know it--because when he asked what we were
going to do when we left Mardi Gras, I should've said what was in my heart:
``Be a couple.'' But, you know, he was right.  We really hadn't known each
other for ten years.  So how the hell did we know what we wanted?



   This is why it's a bad idea to hop into bed with someone you barely
know. Though this isn't quite the same thing, because I used to know him.
But it's close enough.



   I couldn't regret going to bed with him, though--it was just too good!



   I got back to my room.  ``Where the hell have you been?'' Meredith
asked.



   ``I, uh, spent the night with Steve.''



   ``You didn't!  Suzi, what were you thinking?''



   ``I was thinking that it would be fun.  I was right,'' I grinned.



   ``Fine and dandy, but what happens from here?''



   ``Well, that's going to take some thought.  I think we're both confused.
Anyhow, let me take a shower and we can head out--I'm hanging with you guys
today.'' She just shook her head at me.  I grinned, and hopped into the
shower.



   I thought a lot about what had happened.  I just didn't know what to do.




   Anyhow, I went out with the girls.  Now the girls were who I came here
with, right?  The plan was always to come to Mardi Gras with the girls. 
But it just wasn't the same.  Don't get me wrong, it was fun.  But it
wasn't the same as spending yesterday with Steve had been.  We just seemed
so in tune with each other.  Still, after 10 years.  I mean, you know what
happens when 4 girls get together at something like Mardi Gras?  Arguments.
You can never decided what to do next.  There was none of that with Steve.
We just floated through everything.



   And then we probably blew it by having sex.  Me and my stupid hormones.



   Anyhow, it was fun--but I missed Steve.  And I think I drank way too
much.



   CHAPTER NINE

   STEVE



   After Suzanne left, I got my own shower, then went to find the guys.



   Damn, I was so unsettled.  I didn't know what to do about any of this.



   Maybe the guys could help.  ``So, what happened to you yesterday?'' Al
asked.



   ``Well, I hung out with Suzanne.  We spent all day together.  And then,
well, she spent the night.''



   ``You're kidding,'' Mike gasped.  ``Suzanne?  The girl that ruined your
life?''



   ``You slept with her?'' Al added.



   ``Yeah,'' I said, ``and that's the problem.  I hated her up until two
days ago.''



   ``You obviously don't anymore,'' Mike smirked.  ``I know most guys'
dicks don't have a conscience, but it's not like you to sleep with just
anyone.''



   ``Right,'' I agreed.  ``We had a great time yesterday.  And last night
was mind-blowing.  And I woke up this morning confused as all hell.''



   ``Look,'' Al said tentatively, ``we understand what happened to you back
home, and we understand that she did some stuff that set a chain of events
in motion.  But what she did was a long time ago.''



   ``Yeah.  You know, I think she had a crush on me back then, and just
didn't know how to handle it.''



   ``You were, what, eleven?'' Mike asked.  I nodded.  ``That makes
sense.''



   ``Yeah.  And I know I had a crush on her then.''



   ``So, you think this was just a delayed reaction?'' Al asked.



   ``I dunno.  I don't think so.  And that's the scary part.  Like I said,
we spent all day together yesterday.  And we just clicked.  But we slept
together way too soon--as mind-blowing as it was--and now we're both
confused.''



   ``Well, you'll have time to sort it out, considering you actually came
to Mardi Gras and hooked up with someone at the same school,'' Mike
laughed.



   ``True,'' I chuckled.



   I went out with Al and Mike.  We had fun.  But it wasn't the same. 
And--no big surprise--they were trying to pick up girls.  I really didn't
have much desire to pick up girls.



   So, at about 9:00, I actually went back to the hotel.  Mike and Al were
hitting on these two girls, and looked like they were getting somewhere, so
I left them to it.  I was tired anyhow.



   And I wanted to see Suzanne.  I checked her room, but she was still out.
So I took a book down to the coffee shop and had a little snack and some
coffee, and read my book.  This was not exactly the way I'd planned to
spend Mardi Gras--but, oh well.  It was about an hour afterwards that I saw
Suzanne come in through the front door of the hotel.  I quickly walked
over, hoping we could talk.



   And I quickly realized that, if we did talk, Suzanne wasn't going to
make a whole lot of sense, because she was drunk!  I mean, really drunk. 
Drunk off her ass, as my Dad would say.  ``STEVIE!'' she blurted, and came
over and draped herself all over me, slobbering.



   I couldn't help but chuckle.  ``Suzanne, you're drunk.''



   ``Who, meeeeeee?'' she slurred, her arms around my shoulders--at that
point, I was basically holding her up!  ``I just had a little bitty tiny
bitty tiny drink.''



   ``Yeah, the last one, maybe,'' I laughed.  ``Where are your friends?''



   She leaned into my ear and theatrically whispered, ``I gave `em the
slip.''



   I couldn't stop laughing.  ``Suzanne, you need to get to bed.''



   ``GOODY!!!''



   ``I mean bed, as in sleep.''



   ``Party-pooper,'' she slurred.



   I thought about trying to get her into her own room, but finding her key
would've been an adventure.  Plus, I didn't know where her friends were and
I didn't think she should be alone.  So, I brought her up to my room.  Took
her clothes off, put her in bed, and slept with her.  And I mean
sleep--that's all we did.  I do have some honor.



   CHAPTER TEN

   SUZANNE



   I woke up that Monday morning.  At first I didn't realize where I
was--and I was almost afraid to find out.  I didn't remember much of Sunday
night.



   I realized I was in the hotel--but not in my room.  Then I realized
whose room I was in--Steve's.  How the hell did I get here?



   I sat up.  That was probably a mistake.  God.  My mouth tasted like a
small animal had died inside it.  My stomach was doing the tango.  My head
was pounding.  The room was spinning.  And where was Steve?



   I'd been stripped down to my underwear.  Steve had left a hotel robe
there for me, though, so I attempted to stand up.  I slipped the robe on,
then sat down again.  Standing up was too much of an effort.



   I don't think I'd ever been as drunk as I was last night.  I really
didn't remember much.  I needed to find Steve.



   Then I heard voices outside the door.  ``She's still asleep,'' Steve
said.



   ``We lost her last night, she was drunk.'' That was the other voice,
sounded like Meredith.  She must have come looking for me.



   ``I know, she stumbled into the hotel barely able to stand.''



   ``So you took her to bed?  You asshole!'' Meredith said.



   ``I took her to bed.  As in sleep.  Nothing happened.''



   ``Yeah, sure it didn't.  What the hell is your game, anyhow?  You give
her a big guilt trip about ruining your life, then the other night you fuck
her?  And I'm sure you got your jollies again last night.  You're trying to
fuck her over.''



   That's when I stood up again, as difficult as that was.  I stumbled over
to the door and peered out.  ``If you guys are going to discuss my drinking
and sex life, could you bring it back in the room, please?'' I said.



   Steve came back in, Meredith reluctantly followed.  ``How are you
feeling?'' Steve asked.



   ``Like landfill,'' I told him.



   ``Yeah, there's a big surprise,'' he chucked.  ``Wait.'' He went into
the bathroom and quickly came out with some water, some Advil, and some
Pepto.  ``Here.''



   ``Oh, you're an angel,'' I grinned.  I took the stuff, then sat down on
the bed.  He sat in the chair opposite.  Meredith stood, lurking.  ``Now,
what happened?''



   ``I came back to the hotel early, because Al and Mike were trolling for
pussy, and I just wasn't interested.''



   ``Yeah, cause you got yours,'' Meredith snorted.  I shot her a look, and
motioned to Steve to go on.



   ``Anyhow, I wanted to talk to you.  I went to your room and you weren't
there.  So I went downstairs to the coffee shop.  You came in, drunk beyond
imagining.  I figured you shouldn't be alone in that condition, so I
brought you here and put you to bed.  And we slept.  That's it.''



   ``OK,'' I said.  ``Thank you.''



   ``Oh, yeah, right,'' Meredith snorted.  ``Do you really expect me to
believe that load of crap?''



   ``It's the truth,'' Steve shrugged.



   ``Suzanne, do you believe this shit?'' Meredith snorted.  ``Look, three
nights ago he sent you back to the room crying with this big sob story. 
Then, two nights ago he had sex with you.  Yesterday he kicks you out of
the room.  And I'm expected to believe that he found you last night and
suddenly got all altruistic?  Bullshit.  He's a loser with all this pent up
resentment towards you and he's getting back at you.  Don't be an idiot.''



   ``Meredith, that will be enough!'' I thundered.  She looked at me,
shocked, but I wasn't done.  ``You don't know what you're talking about. 
You don't know anything about him!  I know what kind of person he is.  If
he said he didn't take advantage of me last night, then he didn't.  Simple
as that.  And the other night, believe me, was mutual.''



   ``You know what kind of person he is?'' Meredith snorted.



   ``Yes, I do.  I did ten years ago, too.  And my problem then was
listening to too many so-called friends run him down.  Don't you dare do
that to me again.''



   Meredith looked at me, looked at him, and then abruptly stormed out of
the room.



   ``Ah, geez,'' I sighed.



   ``She'll get over it,'' Steve assured me.



   ``I hope so.  Damn, my head hurts.''



   ``Of course it does,'' he grinned.



   ``You look mighty pleased,'' I grumbled.



   ``Well, not about your head hurting.  But that was an impressive
performance.  I'm impressed.  And grateful.''



   ``You're welcome,'' I grinned.



   CHAPTER ELEVEN

   STEVE



   I guess that's what I was waiting for, and I didn't even realize it. 
But when she stuck up for me to one of her best friends, a whole lot of
anxiety melted away.



   I sat down next to her on the bed.



   ``You wanted to talk last night,'' she said.



   ``Yeah, but, you know, now I don't think I do.''



   ``You don't?''



   ``No.  Suzanne, let's do this.  It's Monday.  We're going home
Wednesday. Let's just have fun the next two days.  It's Mardi Gras.  Let's
enjoy it.  And, when we get back to Michigan, we'll figure out what's up.''



   ``I'd like that,'' she smiled.



   So, that's what we did.  We showered and changed, and met in the lobby.
Al and Mike were there, as were her friends.  We all headed out together.
Meredith was, at least, being civil.  ``I think she's reserving
judgement,'' Suzanne whispered to me at one point.



   It was fine.  Our friends kind of came and went, but Suzanne and I stuck
together throughout the whole day.  We went to a couple more parades. 
Suzanne flashed her boobs for some more beads.  We sang Karaoke again.  We
drank, but moderately.  When we went back to the hotel, we were both pretty
sober.



   ``Are you taking me to my room or yours?'' she asked quietly as we
walked into the hotel.



   ``That's up to you.''



   ``Well, I want to go to yours, but only if you don't freak tomorrow
morning,'' she giggled.



   ``I won't.  I promise.''



   It was, if anything, better.  It was less frenzied than the other night,
slower, more affectionate.  I took my time, kissing her all over, before I
moved down between her legs.  This time, she let me give her an orgasm with
my tongue.



   ``I've never liked that much, before you.  It was only a couple of
times, but it never did much for me,'' she admitted.  ``You're a marvel.''



   ``I like it,'' I told her, which was the truth.



   ``I like it, too,'' she grinned.  ``I also like the reverse.'' Whereupon
she scooted down and took my dick in her mouth.  My God!  She gave me the
blowjob of all time.  I was like her, I guess--I'd enjoyed blowjobs, but
not completely.  I had trouble cumming that way.  Not this time.  I came in
a remarkably short time, right into her mouth.  I warned her, but she just
kept sucking.  She swallowed--well, most of it!  Some dribbled down her
chin.  It was fantastic.



   We cuddled for a while, just fondling, while I recovered.  It didn't
take long.  So we were quickly making love.  Since I had already cum once,
I lasted a nice long time--Suzanne came twice.  Then we collapsed next to
each other.



   And, the next morning--I felt great.



   We did it all again--on Tuesday, which was actually Mardi Gras
day--except we got a wee bit drunker.



   Wednesday, we were flying back--on separate flights--to our `real
lives'. I wondered what would happen.



   CHAPTER TWELVE

   SUZANNE



   It turned out to be the best week of my life.



   It was wonderful.  It was fantastic.  Steve was everything I could've
ever wanted in a guy.  Plus the sex was great!



   But Mardi Gras was an isolated enviroment.  It wasn't the real world. 
And when we parted on that Wednesday to return to the real world, I wasn't
sure what was going to happen.



   At first, nothing.  Hey, I understood.  He was playing catch-up, as was
I--we'd both skipped out on three days of classes, after all.  So, I'm sure
he was studying.  I know I was.  But he didn't call me or anything for the
first few days we were back at school.



   Then, on Saturday, he did, right around noontime.  ``You busy tonight?''
he asked.



   ``Not at all.''



   ``Dinner?''



   ``That sounds great, but what are you doing this afternoon?''



   ``Nothing.''



   ``Well, then, get your ass over here!''



   He laughed, and hung up the phone.  Ten minutes later, there he was.  We
hung out all afternoon, watching TV.  He took me to supper at a restaurant
near campus.



   ``So,'' he suddenly said in the middle of supper, ``will you go out with
me?''



   I had to laugh.  ``Yes,'' I said happily.  ``You took me by surprise
with that one.''



   ``I've been working up to it all day,'' he laughed.



   ``You thought there was a chance I'd say no?''



   ``Who knows?  It's nervewracking in any case.'' He took a breath.  ``Who
would've thought I'd be asking you out, considering how I felt about you
two weeks ago.  So anything could happen.''



   ``Steve?  I'm crazy about you.  Hell, I was crazy about you ten years
ago.  If only I'd handled it better.  I just hope I don't screw up this
time.''



   ``You won't,'' he said confidently.  ``You stuck up for me with Meredith
in New Orleans.''



   ``Yeah, and that was just instinctive.''



   ``I know.  It meant the world.''



   I smiled at him and said, ``You have a single, don't you?''



   ``Yeah,'' I laughed.  ``I'd roomed with the same guy the first two
years, but he had to drop out of school.  Money problems.  He'll be back
next year, but this year I have a single.''



   ``Goody!''



   He laughed.  ``Did you have plans for after dinner?''



   ``Dessert,'' I leered at him.  ``You know what's going to be fun? 
Spring break.''



   ``I'm going home for spring break, I spent my discretionary income at
Mardi Gras,'' he laughed.



   ``Yes, as did I, so I am also going home for Spring Break.  Home.  With
you.  That'll be fun.''



   ``It will?''



   ``Sure,'' I said.  ``We'll have to go to some of the town haunts
together.  I want to walk into the burger place with you and watch Grady
Anderson's jaw drop.''



   He cracked up laughing.  ``OK, yeah, that'd be fun.''



   ``I still owe you.''



   ``No, you don't,'' he said.  ``It's over.  It's forgotten.  I'm crazy
about you.''



   ``Yeah, but, I still owe you there.  At home.  You know, I guess I owe
myself too.''



   ``OK.  You done eating?''



   ``Yep.'' The check came, and Steve paid it.  We walked out to his car
arm-in-arm.



   ``Show us your tits,'' he whispered into my ear



   I cracked up laughing.  ``When we get to your room, dear.  I don't want
to get arrested.  East Lansing isn't as enlightened as New Orleans.''



   ``Fine, but I'm holding you to that,'' he grinned, as he opened the
passenger's side door for me.  He got in and we started driving.



   ``Don't worry, when we get to your room, I'll show you all the tits you
want to see.''



   ``Really?''



   ``Really.'' I grinned and reached into my pocketbook.  ``I even brought
these.''



   He looked over.  They were the Michigan State beads.



   Laughing, we drove to his dorm.





   --fin-