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“What are they called?”
“My stories?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, my Raymond Carver rip-off is called ‘Let Me Introduce You,’ and my Salinger rip-off is called ‘Delilah Snow’s Ninth Birthday Party.’”
“Hmm.”
“What about your poetry?”
“I’m not even going to tell you any of my titles.”
“That’s not fair.”
She shrugged, tilting her head, and then her workshop moderator was back and pulling her away from him.
Toward the end of the party they met again in front of the food table. “In the program, this party was advertised as having ‘substantial appetizers.’ What do you think that means?”
Wendy said, “I think they’re telling you that they are not providing dinner, so eat lots of these mini-sandwiches.”
“I will. I have.”
“There’s a bar near here, apparently, that some people are going to after this. If you’re interested...”
“Are you going then?”
“I was thinking about it. But if I go, I’m going to drop off this at my dorm.” She held up the tote bag they’d been given at registration. “I don’t know why I brought it.”
“I’ll walk with you,” Thom said, his voice hoarse, and waited for her to say something like “No, I’ll just meet you at the bar,” but, instead, she said, “I’d like that,” and together they left.
Two hours later, sweaty, naked, and tangled in Wendy’s single bed, Thom said, “You haven’t changed.”
Wendy laughed. “I hope I’ve changed. Last time we did this I was fifteen years old.”
“I guess you’ve changed a little.”
Wendy showed him the groove on her forehead that she called her frown line, and Thom ran the tip of his finger over it, then she told him how her thighs had gotten fat. He ran his hand along the inside of her right thigh, tracing a trickle of sweat. “No, you’re perfect,” he said. The air in the room was the same as outside, hot and muggy.
“I don’t think we’ve ever been completely naked together, have we?” Thom said.
“What about at Salisbury Beach?”
Thom’s mind went back to the two or three images he had from the time they’d snuck up into the dunes to have sex, not for the first time, but for the second. “I’m pretty sure my bathing suit was around my knees the whole time,” he said.
“That sounds right.”
“And I think your bathing suit was more or less still on as well.”
“You have a good memory.”
“For some things, yes.”
Thom’s hand was still on Wendy’s thigh. Sweat was pooling where they touched. “Why is it so hot in here?”
“Because we haven’t turned the air-conditioning on.”
“That might be it.”