Now I'll Tell You Everything (Alice) by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor Page B

we’re women.”
    “News to me,” said Jayne. “I still feel like a sixteen-year-old, as long as I don’t look in the mirror.”
    “Stay that way, Aunt Jayne,” Abby said. “Forever sixteen, that’s you.”
    We watched another group of tubers round a bend out in the middle, where the current was stronger. One of them had a cooler on his lap and was tossing cans of Budweiser to the others.
    We waved. They waved. And suddenly I said, “Abby, do you see who I see?”
    And there he was, Christopher, who recognized us and lifted his can of Bud in salute. The second thing we discovered is that they were all naked. We suspected it when we saw the bare breasts of the women, and we were sure of it when someone in their group upended one of the tubers and we saw his white bottom do a flip-flop in the water.
    “Forever sixteen,” Jayne mused, smiling blissfully up at the sky.

6
THE FIRST TIME
    What I didn’t tell Dad about going to Dave’s house was that his folks wouldn’t be there—they were in Boston for the week. And, not too surprisingly, Dad didn’t ask. Perhaps he just assumed, the way I’d said it, that they would be. Or perhaps he was showing respect for my privacy, now that I was twenty.
    I wonder sometimes if he misses those crazy mealtime discussions we used to have that mortified Les, but who else was I to ask questions of if not Dad and Lester? Other girls had their mothers, while I had Aunt Sally, and Sally’s answers were about as helpful to a nine-year-old as a bra with a D cup.
    The plane banked and turned in its approach to Reagan National, and I looked down on the familiar monuments—on the Potomac River, the Capitol—and thought how different itwas from Eugene. Not better, just different. But it was home. When you live in the Washington area, everything sort of runs together—Maryland, Virginia, DC—and what happens in one place makes news in all three.
    “Are you nervous?” Abby asked, hands folded over her bag.
    I turned away from the window and settled back in my seat. “Nervous?”
    “You haven’t stayed in the same position for more than five seconds. Wouldn’t have something to do with Dave, would it?”
    Was she kidding? It had everything to do with Dave. And yes, I was nervous. And excited. And a little bit scared.
    “Just excited to be home,” I said.
    “Me too.” Valerie was picking her up, and they were going out to a new club that had opened in College Park over the summer. “Hope you and Dave have a good time.” She looked at me knowingly. “A really good time.”
    “We’ll try,” I said, and that sounded so naive and pathetic, it made us both laugh.
    *  *  *
    He met me at the baggage counter and pulled me into a hug, followed by a kiss about as long.
    I backed away finally and smiled up at him. “Hi,” I said, and he grinned some more.
    “Sure glad you’re back,” he told me. He looked a little heavier than he’d been when I’d left, a little fuller around the jaw, but mostly his shoulders seemed broader. Whatever; it looked good on him. Especially in his bright red Terrapins T-shirt.Wanted to make sure I knew I was back in U of M territory, I guess.
    He picked up my luggage, a bag in each hand, as though they were mere five-pounders, and we made our way out the double doors.
    “Hope you’re hungry tonight, because I’m cooking,” he said. “How does grilled steak, garlic mashed potatoes, and asparagus sound?”
    “Garlic?” I said in dismay, then felt my face flush.
    He smiled without looking at me. “Or not,” he said, and we headed over to the parking lot.
    We were strangely quiet as we drove. Dave looked over at me occasionally and asked general questions about Oregon. We were like high school freshmen on our first date, I thought. So weird to go from good friends to . . . something more. Maybe we should wait. . . .
    I began to feel slightly panicky, and Dave must have sensed it because he reached over and caressed my arm, and his