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"Yes. And please don't patronize me. We've known each other too long."
He got mad. "Now I get it. That's what all of these changes have been about. The tight clothes, the new hairstyle, that damned perfume. You got yourself fixed up so I'd notice, didn't you? Well, I noticed, all right, and I hope you're happy about it."
The Wise God of Talk Shows clucked her tongue. Ethan… Ethan… Ethan …
Instead of retaliating as she should have, Kristy smiled. "It's a good thing you did notice, or I'm not sure how long it would have taken me to come to my senses."
"What are you talking about?"
"It's so fundamental, Ethan. So trite. But I guess the simple truths are always like that, aren't they? Rachel warned me when this started that, if I wanted to make changes, I needed to make them for myself and not for you or anyone else. I pretended to agree with her, but I didn't really understand how right she was until that day I showed up for work all dressed to kill and you were so appalled with me."
"Kristy, I wasn't—"
She held up her hand. "It's okay, Ethan. I'm not upset about it any longer. I'm even grateful. Your rejection pushed me to do some things with my life I've needed to do all along."
"I didn't reject you! And I don't see how you can just instantly fall out of love with somebody you said you've loved for years." What was he doing? Was he trying to talk her into loving him?
"You're right. You can't." He felt a tiny spurt of hope, but it was quickly dashed as she went on. "Now I know that it hasn't been love. That needs to work two ways. What I've felt for you was infatuation, obsession. You've been my fatal attraction."
And now you are one boiled bunny, the Mighty Talk Show Host pointed out.
"I think you're giving up on us too easily," he heard himself saying.
"What are you talking about?"
"Our relationship."
"Ethan, we don't have a relationship."
"Yes, we do! How long have we known each other? Since—what, sixth grade?"
"I was in third grade. You were in fourth. Our classrooms were across the hall from each other."
He nodded, as if he'd known that, but the truth was, he didn't remember.
"You and Ricky Jenkins came plowing out of the door one day after school, and Ricky crashed into me." She began packing up their untouched food, her movements automatic. "I was carrying some books and a salt map of Mexico. I fell, the books went everywhere, Mexico cracked. I was so shy then. I hated for anyone to notice me, and, of course, I was mortified. Ricky ran right on, but you stopped and helped me pick everything up. When Ricky looked back and saw what you were doing, he yelled out, 'Don't touch her, Eth. You'll get cooties.' "
She looked over at him, and a small smile curled her lips. "I wanted to die when he said that, but you didn't pay any attention, even though some of the other boys had started to laugh. You took my arm and helped me get up, then you handed me my books and told me I could probably fix Mexico without too much trouble."
The clock on the screen had disappeared, and the second feature was about to begin. She folded her hands in her lap, as if that were the end of it, and he could feel her slipping away from him.
"Did you?"
"What?"
"Fix Mexico?"
She smiled. "I don't remember."
An ache filled him, a desire to make things better for the shy little girl Ricky Jenkins had knocked down. Ethan's hand seemed to have a will of its own as it slipped along the back of the seat and curved around the nape of her neck.
Her lips parted. Startled. The floodlights went out, plunging the lot into darkness.
He pushed the food sack out of the way, leaned forward, and kissed her. A pity kiss. A healing kiss. All better.
And then something inexplicable happened. As he felt those soft lips move beneath his own, the world split open and music exploded in his head, not Handel choruses or Puccini operas, but the raw shriek of dirty, sweaty, throbbing, feel-her-up, toss-her-down, come-on, come-on, Come On Baaaaby! rock 'n' roll.
His hands were all over her. Kneading her breasts, pulling at buttons, tugging at her bra clasp, delving into that sweet, plump flesh. And she wasn't resisting. Oh, no, she wasn't resisting at all. His lips found a small, puckered nipple offered up to him.
