Ross's face and hear his voice.
"Come in, Marja, I was waitin' for you.'*
The door closed behind them. He stood there a moment, then closed the elevator door and dropped the car back to the lobby. He put the lock on the door and sat down on the bench, picking up his math book again.
He stared down at the pages with unseeing eyes. She was standing there in front of him. He snapped the book angrily shut. It was no use. He couldn't stop thinking about her.
He could see her walking down the corridor away from him. He could see Ross's smile and hear his greeting. He got to his feet and went back into the elevator.
It wasn't until he stopped the car on Ross's floor that it came to him. For the first time in his life he was jealous over a girl.
A buzz came from inside the elevator. He got to his feet and looked at the board. The red letters bUnked at him: 12. He snapped the door shut and pulled the lever.
He waited until she came into the car before he spoke. "Marja, I'm sorry. I had yuh pegged wrong."
She looked at him skeptically.
"I mean it, Marja," he said earnestly. "I didn't mean to act nasty."
The doubt began to fade from her eyes. For the first time he reahzed how deep and dark her eyes were. "Things ain't easy for me like they are for Ross," he continued. "Ross is bright and fast. I don't get nothin' unless I sweat it out"
She smiled at him. It was a real smile, warm and genuine.
"I wasn't so nice either," she admitted. "We'll call it square."
He stuck out his hand. "Deal?"
She took it, smilmg. "Deal."
He looked down at her hand, small in his pahn. "Are yuh really Ross's girl?"
"Ross is nice to me," she said. "Real nice. Not Uke most fellas, if yuh know what I mean."
He nodded. "Ross is a nice guy." He looked up at her face, still holding her hand. "Yuh think, sometime, maybe, we can take in a show?"
She nodded silently, her eyes on his face. Something was happening to her. It came from his hand to her, something that had never happened before. She knew a lot of boys, and they never bothered her like this. She was always sure of how she felt about them. But this was different. It was another kind of feeling. A kind of weakness inside.
He stepped toward her. She raised her mouth to his lips. Even the kiss was different. It was warm and sweet and gende and hungry and possessive. She closed her eyes. It was floating in warm, lazy water. She could feel a heat running through her. Instinctively she knew what it was. This wasn't the game that it had been with others. This was her very own. The way she felt. The beginning of desire.
She pushed him away. Her face was flushed. "Take me down," she said in a small, embarrassed voice.
"Marja," Mike said huskily.
She didn't look at him. "Take me down, please," she repeated, wondering what could be wrong with her. She felt warm and happy, and yet she felt like crying.
He turned and started the car. They didn't speak again until the car stopped at the lobby. He opened the door and turned to her.
"I'll see yuh again?" he asked.
She looked at hhn for a moment. "If you want to." Then she turned and fled from the elevator and out of the house.
She climbed the stairs slowly to her landing. She didn't understand herself. Boys were all alike. They were a game she played. Something impersonal, Uke the jacks she used to tumble on the stoop, or hopscotch. It was fun to her, a curious sense of power, of strength, of superiority. But this had been different. Mike had been different. And she didn't know why.
A retching sound came from the toilet in the hall. She glanced toward the closed door, wondering who was sick now. That was one of the things she resented. You couldn't be sick in private when the toilets were in the hallway.
The toilet door opened and her stepfather came out. He saw her standing at the kitchen door. "Get a glass of water," he called. "Your mother is sick!"
Quickly she filled a tumbler at the sink and ran back into the hallway. The toilet door was
"Come in, Marja, I was waitin' for you.'*
The door closed behind them. He stood there a moment, then closed the elevator door and dropped the car back to the lobby. He put the lock on the door and sat down on the bench, picking up his math book again.
He stared down at the pages with unseeing eyes. She was standing there in front of him. He snapped the book angrily shut. It was no use. He couldn't stop thinking about her.
He could see her walking down the corridor away from him. He could see Ross's smile and hear his greeting. He got to his feet and went back into the elevator.
It wasn't until he stopped the car on Ross's floor that it came to him. For the first time in his life he was jealous over a girl.
A buzz came from inside the elevator. He got to his feet and looked at the board. The red letters bUnked at him: 12. He snapped the door shut and pulled the lever.
He waited until she came into the car before he spoke. "Marja, I'm sorry. I had yuh pegged wrong."
She looked at him skeptically.
"I mean it, Marja," he said earnestly. "I didn't mean to act nasty."
The doubt began to fade from her eyes. For the first time he reahzed how deep and dark her eyes were. "Things ain't easy for me like they are for Ross," he continued. "Ross is bright and fast. I don't get nothin' unless I sweat it out"
She smiled at him. It was a real smile, warm and genuine.
"I wasn't so nice either," she admitted. "We'll call it square."
He stuck out his hand. "Deal?"
She took it, smilmg. "Deal."
He looked down at her hand, small in his pahn. "Are yuh really Ross's girl?"
"Ross is nice to me," she said. "Real nice. Not Uke most fellas, if yuh know what I mean."
He nodded. "Ross is a nice guy." He looked up at her face, still holding her hand. "Yuh think, sometime, maybe, we can take in a show?"
She nodded silently, her eyes on his face. Something was happening to her. It came from his hand to her, something that had never happened before. She knew a lot of boys, and they never bothered her like this. She was always sure of how she felt about them. But this was different. It was another kind of feeling. A kind of weakness inside.
He stepped toward her. She raised her mouth to his lips. Even the kiss was different. It was warm and sweet and gende and hungry and possessive. She closed her eyes. It was floating in warm, lazy water. She could feel a heat running through her. Instinctively she knew what it was. This wasn't the game that it had been with others. This was her very own. The way she felt. The beginning of desire.
She pushed him away. Her face was flushed. "Take me down," she said in a small, embarrassed voice.
"Marja," Mike said huskily.
She didn't look at him. "Take me down, please," she repeated, wondering what could be wrong with her. She felt warm and happy, and yet she felt like crying.
He turned and started the car. They didn't speak again until the car stopped at the lobby. He opened the door and turned to her.
"I'll see yuh again?" he asked.
She looked at hhn for a moment. "If you want to." Then she turned and fled from the elevator and out of the house.
She climbed the stairs slowly to her landing. She didn't understand herself. Boys were all alike. They were a game she played. Something impersonal, Uke the jacks she used to tumble on the stoop, or hopscotch. It was fun to her, a curious sense of power, of strength, of superiority. But this had been different. Mike had been different. And she didn't know why.
A retching sound came from the toilet in the hall. She glanced toward the closed door, wondering who was sick now. That was one of the things she resented. You couldn't be sick in private when the toilets were in the hallway.
The toilet door opened and her stepfather came out. He saw her standing at the kitchen door. "Get a glass of water," he called. "Your mother is sick!"
Quickly she filled a tumbler at the sink and ran back into the hallway. The toilet door was
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