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making fun of me?"
"No, but you're acting so--"
"Weird?" he said. "Right, I'm weird. I forgot."
He started back toward the rear door.
"Duncan, stop it. I didn't say you were weird." "It's all right. It doesn't matter. I just realized I
can't stay for dinner anyway. My mother made a roast.
See you," he said, and before I could say another
word, he was out the door.
Nevertheless, I charged out after him. He
practically ran to his scooter parked in front. "Duncan," I called as he turned it around to
head down and out the driveway. He kept going.
"Thanks for helping me in the studio," I shouted. He just lifted his hand to acknowledge and sped
up.
"Damn you!" I screamed after him. "You took
me to the river. You kissed me. If I thought you were
that weird, why would I let you do that? Why are you
running away now?"
Of course, he couldn't hear me. He was too far
away, but I needed to shout it after him. I stood there
long after he was gone, my head spinning because of
his radical mood swings. After another moment, I
went back into the house and paused at my bedroom
door. What could possibly have frightened him about
this room so much? I wondered and then saw a pair of
my panties on the back of a chair and a bra dangling
beside it. I had forgotten to put them into the laundry
hamper. Aside from the dainty curtains, there was
nothing else that really stamped this room a girl's
room. I couldn't imagine why the sight of a pair of
panties and a bra would put the shudders into a boy as
