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"What's wrong? I thought you would be more anxious to see me," he said, with obvious
disappointment.
"It's not you, Beau. It's me. I'm not comfortable here, even though you're beside me. I still feel . . . as my grandpere Jack used to say, like I've stepped on the back of a sleeping alligator."
Beau laughed. "There's no one here but us and the birds," he said, kissing me again. "No alligators." He kissed my neck. "Let's put down our blanket and rest awhile," he coaxed.
I let him take the blanket out from under my arm and watched him spread it over a patch of grass. He sprawled out and beckoned to me. I looked around again, and when I hesitated, he reached up to take my hand and pull me down to him.
In his arms I did forget where I was for the moment. Our kisses were long and passionate. He moved his hands smoothly up my arms and over my breasts. Soon the rush of my own blood competed with the rush of the water over the rocks, the sounds from within me becoming as loud as the sounds without. I felt swept away by Beau's caresses, each kiss, each touch moving the dark sadness off my brow and chasing the gloom from my heart, until I was kissing him as hard and as passionately as he was kissing me. I felt his hands under my blouse, my garments moving away so that we would be closer, skin touching skin, heartbeat to heartbeat. I opened myself to him eagerly and he was there, touching me, holding me, chanting his love and his promises. From somewhere in the forest, I heard the sound of a woodpecker. His tap, tap, tap grew faster and louder, until it sounded as if he was tearing down the whole forest. The water rushed on beside us. My moans grew stronger and more frequent, until we both came crushing down on each other's hunger, satisfying one another with the surrender of our very being.
When it was over, I felt tears streaming down my cheeks. My heart was thumping so hard I thought I would faint. Beau was on his back, gasping with surprise.
"And I thought football was strenuous," he joked. Then he grew serious and gazed down into my eyes. "Are you all right?"
"Yes," I said, catching my breath, "but maybe we love each other too much for our bodies to bear."
He laughed. "I can't think of anyone whose arms I would rather die in," he replied, which brought a smile to my face.
We straightened up our clothing, brushed each other off, and started back through the woods. I had to admit I was feeling lighter and happier than I thought possible these past two weeks.
"I'm so glad you came up to see me, Beau. I hope you don't get into too much trouble."
"It was worth it," he said.
We said goodbye at his car, with some of the girls in the dorm watching us from the front window.
"I can't believe Gisselle hasn't planted herself in my face at least once today," Beau said.
"I know. But whatever she's up to, it's something nasty for someone, I'm sure." Beau laughed at my words. We kissed goodbye quickly, and then I stood there watching him drive off. I didn't turn to go into the dorm until his car was completely gone from sight. Then I bowed my head and strolled into the dorm.
"You'd better get a move on," Sarah Peters warned me after I entered the building.
"Why?"
"We just heard: Our dorm's been chosen for an unannounced inspection. The Iron Lady could be here any moment," she explained.
"Inspection? Inspection of what?"
"Anything. Our rooms, our bathrooms, anything. She doesn't need a warrant, you know."
When I arrived at the quad, I found all the girls in a frenzy, even Gisselle. They were cleaning and straightening up. Everyone's room looked well organized and neat. Samantha had done a pretty good job on ours.
"We'll be hit first," Vicki informed me. "She goes in alphabetical order."
"How was your visit with Beau?" Gisselle asked from her doorway.
I glared at her, the anger I felt still quite strong.
"Why, weren't you spying on us?" I asked. She laughed.--but nervously, I thought.
"I had much better things to do," she replied, then retreated to her room quickly.
About half an hour later, Mrs. Ironwood did arrive, escorted by Mrs. Penny and Deborah Peck, who carried a clipboard and took down whatever notes and demerits Mrs. Ironwood imposed. The inspection began in Jackie and Kate's room and then went to Gisselle's. I expected to hear complaints, but Mrs. Ironwood emerged with a look of satisfaction on her face. She stepped into my doorway and gazed around the room.
"Good afternoon, girls," she said to Samantha and me. Samantha looked terrified, and she uttered a reply that was barely audible. Mrs. Ironwood went to one of the dressers and ran her fingers over the top. She looked at her fingers.
"Very nice," she said. "I'm glad you keep your rooms clean and consider them your home." She opened the closet door and peered in at our clothing, nodded, and then looked at my dresser. She stepped up to it and pulled open the top drawer, gazing in and nodding. "Well organized," she said. Samantha smiled at me. Then Mrs. Ironwood reached down and pulled open the third drawer. She stood there staring down for a moment and then turned to me.
